.1  <  1 


LAIR 


iEBElJI 


ILLUSTRATED 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


1   ^ 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


/ 


'  r./C/ 


'/ 


n  "-/f  >?  V 


FITZ-HUGH  ST.  CLAIR, 


^a:^( 


THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  INSTITUTE  OR  SECESSION  HALL.  —  Frontispiece. 


riTZ-IlUGH  ST.  CLAIR, 

THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  REBEL  BOY; 

OR, 

IT  IS  i\0  CRIME  TO  BE  BORN  A  GENTLEMAN. 

BY 
MRS.  SALLIE  F.  CHAPIN. 


The  right  of  strict  social  discrimination  of  all  things  and  persons,  according  to 
tlieir  merits,  native  or  acvjuired,  i-s  one  of  the  most  jirecioiis  Kepnblican  i)rivi. 

leges T  insist  on  my  Democratic  liberty  of  choice,  and  go  for  tlie 

man  with  the  gallery  of  Family  Portraits  against  the  one  with  the  twenty- 
five  cent  daguerreotype,  unless  I  find  out  the  last  is  the  better  of  the  two." 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON,  PvEMSEX   &  HAFFELFINGER. 

CHARLESTON,  S.  C. :  JOHN  M.  GREER  &  SOX. 
187  2. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFIXGER, 

in  tbe  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  "Washington. 

STEREOTYPED  BT  J.  FAOAX  &  SOX,  PHILADELPHU. 


TO  THE 

m\Mm\  of  llie  .>iifhern  (fonfcdcrariT, 

Whose  Fathers  were  Brave,  and  True  enough  to  figlit  for  the  Prin- 
ciples they  believed  to  be  right;  I  dedicate  my  Little  Book. 

These  Brave  Fathers  fell  (many  of  them)  upon  Blood-Staincd 
Battle  Fields,  and  in  Fame's  broad  Pantheon,  have  failed  to  gain 
that  Immortality,  which  short-sighted  man  bestows;  yet  we, 
who  loved  them,  and  the  Glorious  Cause,  in  which  they  perished, 
intend  to  protest,  and  we  do  still-protest,  and  shall  never  cease 
protesting,  against  the  judgment  that  would  consign  their  pre- 
cious memories  to  oblivion. 

Heroes  of  a  "  Lost  Cause  "  true  they  are :  but  that  cause  was  ours, 
and  we  can  never  forget,  that  their  livlfig  bodies,  and  beating 
hearts,  were  our  bulwarks  on  many  a  hard-fought  Battle  Field  ; 
and  they  have  gone  to  their  graves  in  bloody  shrouds,  for  our 
sakes.  But  they  died,  as  Brave  Men  love  to  die,  in  Dkfence  of 
TUE  Right;   their  deeds  are 

"  Wortliie  on  Fame's  eternall  bead-roll  to  be  fyled," 

and  every  line  written  in  this  book,  calls  upon  you  (their  chil- 
dren) to  emulate  their  valor ;  and  sacredly  to  cherish  their  memo- 
ries while  life  lasts;  and  above  all,  to  do  nothing  to  disgrace  the 
names,  which  they  made  illustrious,  and  in  dying  bequeathed 
to  you,  as  a  priceless  legacy,  to  be  handed  down  — without 
blemish  —  to  the  latest  generation. 

•  There  was  not  a  single  deed,  in  the  unequal  struggle,  in  which 
they  were  engaged,  of  which  you  ought  not  to  be  proud,  for 
although  the  flag  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  was  furled  in 
defeat,  no  stain  of  dishonor,  sullies  the  virgin  purity  of  its 
f<»lds  ;  and  one  day,  the  world  will  acknowledge  that  it  was 
laid  away  to  mould,  only  because 

We  were  Outnumbered!     Not  Outbraved  I 

SALLIE  F.  CHAPJN. 

Charleston,  S.  C. 


602764 


GONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 
Boys,  and  what  they  are  (jood  for 13 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Hive  of  Busy  Bees 19 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Second  Monthly  Report  of  the  Society 25 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Glendaire,  General  St.  Clair's  Island  Home 80 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Attack  of  the  Federal  Fleet 45 

CHAPTER  VI. 
A  Chat  about  Children 49 

CHAPTER  VI I. 

General  St.  Clair's  Explanation  as  to  the  Causes 
of  the  War 54 

ix 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  YIII. 
The  Departuke 78 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Battle  of  Manassas 85 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Death  of  Old  Mr.  St.  Clair 9-1 

CHAPTER  XL 

Speculators 98 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

The  Burning  of  Colu:mbia 102 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

The  Burial  of  Baby  May 113 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Defeat 119 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Move  to  Charleston 132 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Trip  North 143 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Hunting  a  Situation 153 

CHAPTER  XVIIL 
Resisting  Temptation 172 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  Hotel  Dinner 195 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  WiNTiiROP's  History  of  Himself 209 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
TuE  Meeting  between  Fitz  and  his  Mother 223 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Life  at  Newport 231 


FITZ-HUGH  ST.  CLAIR. 


CHAPTER  I. 


BOYS,    AND   WirAT   THEY   ARE   GOOD    FOR. 


DON'T  you  wish  you  were  a  girl  ?  "  asked  little  curly- 
headed  Lillie  of  a  sullen -looking  boy,  whose 
angry  countenance  plainly  indicated  entire  dissatis- 
faction, either  with  his  sex  or  something  else. 

"Do  I  wish  I  was  a  girl?"  repeated  Willie,  in  the 
most  contemptuous  tone.  "  Of  course  I  do  not,  and  I 
can't  imagine  what  could  have  put  such  a  stupid  notion 
into  your  head,  Lillie.  If  it  will  be  any  satisfaction  for 
you  to  know,  let  me  inform  you  that  if  the  clioice  were 
given  me  either  to  be  a  girl,  or  a  horse,  I  should  not 
hesitate  a  second,  but  would  trot  into  the  stabk'  riglit 
away.  I  have  such  a  contempt  lor  feminine  gender 
children  that  I  wish  there  was  not  one  in  the  world." 

"  You  don't  say  so,  Mr.  Gallantr)- ;  ^vhy,  you  would 

make  a  good  Moslem.     But  it  is  not  often,  Mr.  Turk, 
2  13 


11  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

that  people  come  so  near  having  their  wishes  gratified; 
for,  if  you  are  not  a  horse,  you  are  a  fair  specimen  of 
his  long-eared  cousin.  I  suppose,  to  carry  out  the  idea, 
you  wish  your  gentle  mamma  was  a  great,  burly,  big- 
whiskered  six-footer  like  your  papa,  and  your  little 
sisters  had  all  been  born  brothers,  as  amiable  and 
interesting  as  yourself,"  said  Kate  Lee,  the  most 
sprightly  and  beautiful  girl  in  town,  who  had  offended 
"Willie,  and  for  whom  his  spiteful  remarks  were  in- 
tended. 

"  No,  Miss  Smartness,  I  wish  no  such  thing  ;  for  my 
mother  and  sisters  are  not  all  the  time  cutting  their 
wit  at  people  as  you  are.  Another  thing,  I  was  not 
speaking  to  you,  but  to  Lillie,  and  it  is  very  meddle- 
some in  you  to  take  up  my  remarks.  I  would  mind 
my  own  business  if  I  were  you,  and  not  interfere  Avith 
other  people." 

"  There,  I  would  not  copy  you.  Will,  for  I  think 
you  would  be  meddling  on  a  grand  scale  to  exterminate 
the  whole  race  of  women  (except  the  feminines  of 
your  own  family),  as  you  pretend  you  would  like  to 
do.  Why,  my  dear  child,  you  have  not  thought  of 
the  result  of  such  a  wiping  out.  Surely,  Campbell's 
world  without  a  s(u)n  would  be  a  paradise  compared 
to  the  world  you  would  make  without  a  daughter. 
Xo,  better  let  things  be  as  they  are,  Willie,  for  if  there 
were  no  girls  in  this  world  I  am  afraid  you  would 
follow  the  example  of  that  illustrious  cry-baby  we  read 
about  in  our  history  this  morning,  and  go  to  whining 
^for  another  world'  —  one  with  g-u-r-r-1-s  in  it." 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAI  R.  15 

"You  are  very  much  mistaken,  Miss  Conceit,  if  vou 
entertain  any  such  idea." 

"Excuse  me,  my  name  is  Lee  —  Miss  Kate  IjCo,  at 
your  service,  and  neither  Miss  Smartness  nor  INIiss 
Conceit." 

"Yes,  and  Miss  Kate  Lee  it  would  always  remain 
if  it  depended  on  me  —  " 

"  Which  it  don't,"  said  the  torment ;  "  my  last  re- 
jection of  your  suit  was  final.  But,  come,  don't  be  so 
spiteful,  we  girls  have  beaten  you  in  a  fair  fight. 
Boys  are  helpless,  inefficient  creatures,  although  you 
think  it  such  an  honor  to  have  been  born  a  masculine 
gender  child.  You  don't  s(e)w  as  girls  do,  consequently 
you  cannot  reap  as  they  have  done.  But  you  can't 
help  it;  it  all  comes  of  your  being  boys,  and  it  is 
simply  pre-pos-ter-oas  for  boys  to  pretend  to  keep 
pace  with  girls  in  energy,  or  indeed  anything  else,  so 
stop  your  unmanly  whining,  and  do  as  the  newspapers 
are  continually  preaching  up  to  the  grown  folks  to  do  — 
'  accept  the  situation  ; '  it  is  a  good  plan  when  there  's 
nothing  else  to  accept,  and  you  are  obliged  to  accept 
it,  whether  you  will  or  not." 

•  "Katie  darling,"  said  little  Lillie,  "don't  you,  in  fact, 
like  boys?  I  do  think  they  are  real  nice,  only  they 
don't  know  how  to  do  anvthino;." 

"Don't  they,  pet?"  said  Kate,  laughing  heartily 
at  the  unconscious  endorsement  the  little  innocent  was 
giving  to  the  charges  she  had  just  made.  "  Their  being 
so  useless  is  the  very  reason  Katie  don't  like  them ; 
you  stumbled  right  on  the  truth,  you  wise  little  Lillie, 
you." 


16  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  What  in  the  world  have  the  boys  been  doing,  Miss 
Kate,  to  have  rendered  themselves  so  obnoxious  to 
you?''  asked  a  graceful,  handsome  boy,  who  had 
entered  the  academy  while  the  contest  of  words  between 
Kate  and  Willie  was  going  on. 

"What  have  they  been  doing?  Fitz,  you  surely 
did  n't  mean  to  ask  that  question,  did  you  ?  Boys 
doing  !  Why,  did  you  ever  know  them  guilty  of 
doing  anything  useful  ?  " 

"Most  assuredly  I  have.  Why  should  they  not? 
they  are  capable  of  doing  anything  in  the  world  they 
please." 

"  I  grant  that ;  but  when,  my  dear  friend,  docs  it 
ever  ^please'  a  boy  to  do  anything,  except  monopolize 
the  spare  moments  of  his  poor,  tired  mother,  in  darn- 
ing, patching,  making  and  cleaning  clothes  for  the 
great,  lazy  fellow  to  loaf  around  in;  yet,  if  we  girls 
only  ask  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  of  elegant  leisure 
to  ^  do  an  errand  for  us,'  or  in  any  way  relieve  us  of 
one  of  the  thousand  duties  we  are  called  upon  daily 
to  perform,  they  immediately  fall  back  upon  their 
reserved  rights,  and,  with  great  dignity,  coolly  inform 
us  they  ^  are  not  girls,'  as  if  it  would  be  any  disgrace 
to  them  if  they  were." 

"  Indeed,  Katie,  I  disagree  with  you  entirely,"  said 
Rena  St.  Clair,  the  sister  of  Fitz,  "  and  you  would  not 
speak  as  you  do  if  you  had  such  a  dear,  good  brother 
as  I  have.  Why,  there  is  not  a  day  passes  that  mamma 
does  not  say  she  ^  could  not  get  along  at  all  without 
our  dear  Fitz,'  and  he  is  a  boy.  He  gets  up  at  dawn, 
and  —  " 


FlTZ-IIUCill    ST.    CLAIR.  17 

"Stop!  stop!  stop!  you  dear,  partial,  little  sister, 
you,"  said  Fitz,  coming  up  behind  her,  and  putting 
l)Oth  hands  over  her  mouth,  '*  have  you  no  mercy  ? 
Don't  you  know  Fitz  is  your  brother,  and  your  testi- 
mony cannot  be  unbiassed ;  besides.  Miss  Kate  is  talking 
of  'boys,^  not  brothers,  for  she  is  fortunate  enough 
not  to  be  annoyed  with  a  brother." 

"  I  never  saw  but  one  that  I  Avould  not  consider  an 
annoyance,"  replied  Kate. 

"  We  all  know  who  that  is,"  said  Willie,  glancing 
knowingly  at  Fitz ;  "  but  we  are  not  so  sure,  Katie, 
that  'a  brother'  is  the  kinship  you  would  like  to  have 
established  between  you ;  that  would  preclude  a  ^nearer 
one  still  and  a  dearer,'  you  know,"  and  he  laughed 
triumphantly,  as  he  saw  he  was  not  misunderstood, 
and  had  succeeded  (for  the  first  time  in  his  life)  in 
placing  at  a  disadvantage  the  incorrigible  tease. 

"  I  will  not  condescend  to  answer  your  impertinent 
insinuation,"  she  replied,  with  crimson  cheek  and 
flashing  eye;  "  for  I  do  not  think  I  am  at  all  singular 
in  appreciating  merit,  particularly  when  as  in  this 
case  it  is  rendered  so  conspicuous  by  contrast  with 
inefficiency  and  impudence,"  and,  so  saying,  she  left 
the  room. 

"  Willie,  you  surely  forgot  you  were  speaking  to  a 
young  lady,"  said  Fitz. 

"  Xo,  I  did  not,  Fitz;  but  I  am  sorry  I  victimized 
you,  old  fellow.  Why,  I  have  made  you  blush  like  a 
girl.  The  fact  is,  Kate  provokes  me  until  I  scarcely 
know  wliat  T  am  saying  or  doing,  half  the  tin)e  I  :ii)i 


18 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 


with  her,  and  that  abominable  report  she  read  to-day- 
would  have  exasperated  an  angel.  I  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  pay  her  off,  even  at  your  expense ; 
so,  excuse  me,  for  I  would  not  have  hit  you  if  you  had 
not  been  standing  right  between  me  and  the  game  I 
was  trying  to  bring  down." 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   HIVE   OF   BUSY    BEES. 

THE  precocious  young  people,  to  whom  Ave  were 
introduced  in  the  preceding  chapter,  were  in 
attendance  at  a  juvenile  "  Soldiers'  Relief  Society," 
which  was  holding  its  weekly  meeting  in  the  Female 
Academy.  It  was  at  the  commencement  of  the  war, 
when  the  entire  State,  from  mountain  to  seaboard,  was 
intensely  excited.  Young  and  old,  great  and  small, 
rich  and  poor,  white  and  black,  bond  and  free,  the 
scalawag  of  to-day  and  the  true  man,  all  talked 
"  secession"  then,  and  were  eager  to  shed  their  own,  or 
somebody  else's  blood.  The  brave  men  who  were  in 
the  army,  risking  their  lives  in  defence  of  a  cause  we 
believed  so  just  and  holy,  had  the  sympathy  of  all, 
and  societies  for  their  relief  were  organized  in  every 
city,  town,  and  village. 

'*  Pcoi)le  gave  who  never  gave  before, 
And  tliose  who  always  gave,  now  gave  the  more." 

Our  little  folk  called  their  society  ^'  The  Hive  of 

19 


\ 


20  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

Busy  Bees,"  and  one  part  of  their  Constitution  read 
thus : 

"  No  person  over  sixteen  years  of  age  will,  under 
any  circumstances,  be  permitted  to  join  this  Society." 

The  very  first  act  under  this  rule  was  the  election 
of  Miss  Birch,  their  teacher,  a  maiden  of  sixty,  first  as 
a  member,  and  subsequently  as  their  President.  This 
procedure  removed  every  lingering  doubt  as  to  the 
genuineness  of  their  Constitution,  for  George  Wilson, 
who  loved  to  use  big  words,  said  it  was  the  very  "  fact 
smiley  "  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States ;  to 
which  Miss  Birch,  with  an  arch  look,  replied,  "and 
quite  as  elastic.  However,  constitutions,  to  suit  every- 
body, ought  to  be  made  to  mean  different  things  to 
diflPerent  people,  and  everybody  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  construe  them  to  suit  their  peculiar  circumstances. 
So  I  guess,  children,  the  difference  between  sixteen 
and  sixty  is  not  too  great  to  be  reconciled.  If  the  dis- 
crepancy had  occurred  in  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States,  it  would  not  have  been  deemed  worthy 
of  a  consideration,  so  we  will  follow  that  example,  and 
if  we  get  in  a  tight  place  we  will  do  as  Congress  does, 
and  as  you  boys  do  to  your  kites,  tack  on  a  bob,  and 
call  it  an  amendment ;  for  bobs  and  amendments  an- 
swer the  same  purpose  —  they  make  whatever  they  are 
tacked  on  to  go  up  as  high  as  a  kite." 

Little  Lillie  had  been  quietly  listening  to  the  above 
conversation,  and  seemed  to  be  revolving  a  problem  in 
her  mind  which  she  was  not  able  satisfactorily  to  de- 
monstrate. At  last  she  spoke  out,  and  said,  "Miss 
Birch,  how  old  is  you  ?  " 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  21 

"  Why,  Lillie,  I  am  sixteen,"  replied  Miss  Birch ; 
"did  you  think  I  was  not  old  enough  to  join  your 
Society,  little  pet?  I  was  sixteen  so  long  ago  I  have 
almost  forgotten  it." 

"  Yes,  and  you  have  been  sixteen  a  good  many  times  » 
since,  I  'spect,  haven't  you,  Miss  Birch?"  said  the  little 
philosopher,  wagging  her  head. 

"  Yes,  darling,  ev^ery  sixteen  years  since." 

"  And  I  am  not  six  yet.  When  I  am  sixteen,  will 
I  have  to  begin  over  and  be  one  ?  Mamma  don't  do 
that  way.  ISlie  gets  one  year  older  every  year,  she 
says,  and  papa,  too ;  and  great-grandma  is  ever  so  old ; 
I  'spect  she  is  'most  a  thousand." 

"  Dear,  dear  me !  what  an  old  lady  she  must  be,  to 
be  sure;  older  than  Methuselah,  who  was  only  nine 
hundred  and  sixty-nine,"  said  Miss  Birch. 

"  Yes,  her  name  is  in  the  same  Bible  with  Methu- 
salum's,  because  papa  went  to  the  Bible  the  other  day, 
and  he  said  great-grandma's  age  was  in  the  Bible." 

At  this  the  children  laughed  heartily,  and  Miss 
Birch  called  the  Society  to  order. 

Willie  Wagner  proposed  that  "  the  dues  of  the  So- 
ciety should  be  paid  in  Confederate  money,"  and  the 
President  requested  all  in  favor  of  the  motion  to  raise 
their  right  hands.  Up  went  every  hand,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  whole  Hive  were  about  to  take  flio:ht.  Such 
as  were  not  quite  certain  which  was  their  right  hand 
raised  each  alternately,  for  fear  of  losing  their  vote. 
By  the  payment  of  one  dollar  they  became  members  of 
the  Society.     Tommy  Tucker  had  two  one-dollar  bills 


22  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

on  the  Bank  of  Charleston.  He  offered  one  in  pay- 
ment of  his  dues,  but  it  was  refused.  With  quivering 
lip,  and  tears  running  down  his  cheeks,  he  said,  ^*  I 
will  give  you  both  of  my  two  dollars,  if  you  will  only 
let  me  join.^^ 

But  the  Society  was  incorrigible.  Nothing  but  Con- 
federate money  would  be  tolerated  by  the  little 
patriots. 

It  was  a  terrible  disappointment  to  poor  Tom,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  it.  He  was  among  children,  and 
there  is  no  "  runnins^  with  the  hare  and  holdino-  with 
the  hound  "  among  them.  If  he  had  only  been  among 
grown  people,  some  one  would  certainly  have  offered 
to  shave  his  bill  for  him,  or  lend  him  the  amount  at 
five  per  cent,  a  month.  As  it  was  he  had  to  run 
home  and  exchange  his  bills. 

The  Society  had  been  organized  just  two  months 
when  our  story  commenced,  and  it  was  Kate  Lee's 
^'  monthly  report "  as  Secretary  and  Treasurer  that  had 
so  offended  Willie  Chisolm.  The  fact  is,  the  boys,  up 
to  date,  had  done  nothing  in  the  world  but  pay  their 
admission  fees,  while  the  girls  had  handed  into  the 
treasury  twenty  dollars,  which,  by  their  industry,  they 
had  earned.  The  report  read  tiius  :  ^'  The  Treasurer 
has  in  hand  twenty  dollars,  avails  of  work  manufac- 
tured and  sold  by  the  young  ladies.  The  young  gen- 
tlemen have  honored  the  Society  with  their  presence, 
and  if  tliey  will  reduce  the  honor  to  its  cent,  per  cent, 
valuation  in  dollars  and  cents  (which  is  the  currency  of 
this  association),  we  will  be  happy  to  place  it  to  their 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  23 

credit  on  the  books  of  the  Society."  The  girls  h:ul  not 
concealed  from  the  boys  the  fact  that  they  considered 
them  "the  drones"  in  the  Hive,  and  never  left  an  op- 
portunity unimproved  to  impress  them  with  a  sense 
of  their  worthlessness ;  but  this  report  was  the  culmi- 
nation of  their  disgrace.  They  were  mortified  to  death, 
and  sat  twirling  their  hats,  groping  in  their  pockets, 
and  looking,  for  all  the  world,  like  the 

"  Fonr-and-twenty  fiddlers,  all  in  a  row," 

To  say  ''they  were  satisfied"  with  simply  holding 
their  membership  would  be  doing  them  injustice; 
they  were  anxious  to  do  something,  but  what,  they  did 
not  know.  - 

It  was  the  first  meeting  Fitz-Hugh  St.  Clair  had 
attended,  and  the  boys  hailed  his  presence  with  delight, 
and  urged  him  to  join  them. 

"  What !  place  my  name  upon  such  a  roll  of  in- 
famy ? "  he  asked,  laughingly ;  "  the  inducement  is 
certainly  great." 

"  Yes,"  they  all  said,  "  but  with  you  to  plan  for  us, 
Fitz,  what  can  we  not  do  ?  Only  consent  to  lead  us, 
and  we  will  follow  you,  as  Stonewall  Jackson  said  he 
would  Lee — 'with  eyes  shut.'  So  come,  old  fellow, 
raise  the  battle-flag  and  lead  us  to  victory." 

"  What  flag  are  you  under  now  ?  "  asked  Kate. 

"  The  white  flag,  and  we  plead  for  quarter,"  replied 
Fitz. 

"Granted,  provided  that  if  our  positions,  by  the 
fortunes  of  war,  should  become  reversed,  you  will  not 


24  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

raise  the  black  flag.  You  know  my  opinion  of  boys ; 
they  become  arrogant  upon  a  very  small  capital." 

"  We  will  try,  Miss  Kate,  and  be  at  least  as  mag- 
nanimous as  you  have  been.'^ 

"  Magnanimous  !  P-h-e-w  !  "  w*histled  Will,  *'  you 
had  better  say  rantankerous ;  but,  old  lady,  our  day 
is  coming,  and  I  Avarn  you,  beware  of  the  '  ides  of 
March.'" 

"  I  sha'n't  forget  there  is  a  Eichmond  in  the  field, 
"Will.  But  Ave  shall  see  what  we  shall  see,  and  until 
then  I  am  yours  most  respectfully,"  and,  courtesy ing 
very  low,  she  left  the  boys  to  plan  their  campaign. 


CHAPTER   III. 


THE   SECOND    MON'THLY   EEPORT   OF   THE   SOCIETY. 


FITZ-HUGH  ST.  CLAIR  was  a  manly,  noble 
boy,  and  a  universal  favorite.  The  girls  admired 
his  beauty,  the  boys  his  bravery,  mothers  trusted  their 
sons  with  him,  and  held  him  up  as  an  example  for 
imitation ;  and  all  agreed  he  was  the  best  boy  in  town. 
No  one  ever  saw  him  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  or 
heard  him  use  profane  language.  In  conversing,  he 
looked  you  in  the  face,  as  though  he  would  say,  "  I 
have  nothing  to  conceal ;  look  riglit  through  my  eyes 
into  my  breast,  and  see  for  yourself.'' 

He  had  been  reared  in  great  affluence,  but  by  pious 
and  intelligent  parents,  who  had  taught  him  to 

"  Consider  the  day  lost,  whose  low,  descending  sun 
Saw  by  his  hand  no  deed  of  duty  done." 

When  the  boys  met  to  consult  as  to  the  ways  and 
means  of  extricating  themselves  from  the  dilemma 
into  which  their  laziness  had  brought  them,  Fitz  rated 
them  soundly  for  their  listlessness  and  want  of  energy, 

25 


/ 


26  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

and  only  consented  to  become  a  member  of  the  Society 
on  condition  that  they  ^vent  immediately  to  ^vork,  with 
might  and  main,  and  left  no  effort  unemployed  to  place 
themselyes  in  a  proper  position  before  the  young 
ladies. 

They  were  willing  to  do,  or  i3romise,  anything  in  the 
world,  and  entering  into  all  of  his  plans  they  caught 
his  inspiration,  and  were  only  surprised  that  some  of 
his  suggestions  "  had  not  presented  themselves,"  they 
seemed  so  simple. 

The  girls  looked  forward  to  the  next  report-day 
with  considerable  anxiety,  and,  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged, not  without  a  few  misgivings,  as  to  their  being 
able  to  bear  off  the  honors  as  they  had  previously  done. 
That  the  boys  were  hard  at  work,  somewhere,  and  at 
something,  was  certain,  for  they  were  no  longer  met 
loafing  at  the  street-corners;  but  no  efforts  of  the  girls 
could  find  out  their  whereabouts  or  employment. 

At  last  the  important  day  arrived  ;  curiosity  Avas  on 
tiptoe.  There  was  a  quiet  twinkle  in  the  eyes  of  the 
boys,  and  a  look  which  seemed  to  say,  "  We  are  not 
afraid  of  you  to-day,  girls.^^ 

"  How  much  have  you  boys  earned  ?  "  was  asked  a 
dozen  times  by  the  inquisitive  girls,  but  the  answer 
given  was  invariably,  ^'Fitz  is  our  treasurer,  you  must 
ask  him  ;  '^  and  he,  most  provokingly,  staid  away  until 
the  meeting  had  commenced. 

^^I  would  like  to  have  your  report,  Fitz,"  said 
Kate,  in  a  tone  decidedly  more  subdued  than  was 
usual  with  her. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  27 

"  Sure  enough,  this  is  report -day,''  said  lie,  in  the 
coolest  manner  imaginable,  just  as  tliouLih  he  had  not 
made  it  an  era,  from  which  they  would  in  future  date. 
"  Let  me  see,"  said  he,  "  if  I  have  not  left  my  account 
at  home,"  and  he  felt  first  in  one  pocket,  and  then  in 
the  other,  while  the  boys,  with  eyes  as  big  as  saucers, 
looked  the  admiration  they  felt  for  one  so  infinitely 
superior  to  them  as  to  be  entirely  self-sustained,  while 
they  could  scarcely  keep  their  seats.  "  Here  it  is," 
said  he,  at  last,  taking  it  from  the  pocket  he  had  first 
explored,  and,  with  a  quiet  smile,  handing  it  to  Kate, 
who  read : 

"  The  boys  desire  to  hand  in  to  the  treasurer  the 
sum  of  §60.30,"  (a  large  amount,  if  it  had  not  been 
Confederate  money). 

"  By  the  request  of  the  young  ladies  they  have 
'reduced  to  its  cent,  per  cent,  value'  their  services  for 
the  past  two  months,  and  find  the  amount  as  reported." 

It  was  a  study  to  see  the  amused  look  with  which 
Fitz  regarded  Kate,  as  she  read  the  report.  AVhen 
she  concluded,  he  said,  "  Will  the  secretary  be  kind 
enough  to  inform  the  boys  how  much  they  now  lack 
of  reaching  the  amount  brought  in  by  the  young 
ladies." 

"Nothing  at  all,  Mr.  Innocence,"  she  replied,  in  a 
quick,  nervous  manner.  "  Your  triumph  is  complete. 
You  have  $16.00  more  in  the  treasury  than  we  have. 
I  congratulate  you  upon  your  success." 

"  You  are  not  very  enthusiastic  in  your  congratu- 
lations, Katie,  and  you   seem   as  anxious   to  change 


28  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

Master  St.  Clair's  name  as  you  pretended  I  was  to 
change  yours.  I  told  you,  you  were  mistaken  in  saying 
you  wanted  Fitz  for  a  brother/'  said  Will,  the  incor- 
rigible. 

"At  all  events,  I  was  not  mistaken  in  calling  you 
'  insolent,'  Willie.  I  don't  see  what  you  are  putting  on 
such  airs  for.  You  are  presuming  on  another's  capital, 
for  you  boys  were  all  lying  like  capsized  turtles  on  your 
backs,  until  Fitz  came  to  the  rescue,  and,  by  his  tact 
and  energy,  put  you  all  on  your  feet." 

"  Yes ;  but  once  we  did  get  on  our  feet,  we  went  it, 
you  are  obliged  to  admit,  Katie,  and  it  was  history 
repeating  itself — ^the  Hare  and  the  Tortoise'  over 
again ;  "  and  he  jumped  and  capered,  as  if  he  had 
gone  beside  himself. 

"  Is  we  under  the  black  flag,  Katie,  because  we  got 
beat  ?  "  asked  Lillie. 

"  Xo,"  said  Willie,  "  you  are  under  the  yellow  flag, 
because  you  are  in  a  declining  condition,  and  your 
secretary  is  jealous." 

"  Don't  mind  him,  Lillie,"  said  Fitz,  "  it  is  not  so. 
We  are  all  under  one  ^  glorious  flag '  —  the  Confed- 
erate flag,  and  must  each  do  the  very  best  we  can  to 
aid  the  cause  it  represents.  We  cannot  fight ;  but  we 
can  earn  money  to  buy  good  weapons  for  those  who 
are  fighting,  so  that  they  may  not  fight  at  too  great  a 
disadvantage." 

"Yes,  children,"  said  Miss  Birch,  "you  can  each 
one,  no  matter  how  small,  do  something.  Do  you  rec- 
ollect the  verses  you  learned  last  Sunday,  Lillie  ?  Can 
you  repeat  them  ?     They  are  quite  to  the  point. '^ 


FITZ-IIUOII    ST.    CLAIR.  29 

"I  will  try,"  said  Lillie;  and,  standing  up,  she  re- 
cited, without  a  single  mistake,  the  following  beautiful 
lines,  which  we  hope  every  child  who  reads  this  book 
will  memorize : 

THE  TERRIBLE  IFS. 

If  tlie  little  cowslip  should  hang  its  golden  cup, 
And  say  I  am  such  a  tiny  flower  I'd  better  not  grow  up, 
How  many  a  weary  traveller  would  miss  its  fragrant  smell, 
How  many  a  little  child  would  grieve  to  miss  it  from  the  dell. 

And  if  the  little  breezes,  upon  a  summer  day. 
Should  think  themselves  too  small  to  cool  the  ti-aveller  on  his  way, 
"Who  would  not  miss  the  softest  and  gentlest  ones  that  blow. 
And  think  they  made  a  great  mistake,  if  they  were  acting  so  ? 

So,  many  deeds  of  kindness  the  smallest  child  may  do, 
Although  it  has  so  little  strength,  and  little  wisdom,  too; 
If  it  Ls  but  in  earnest,  and  works  with  all  its  power. 
The  smallest  child  will  bless  the  world  it  lives  in  every  hour. 


CHAPTER  lY. 

GLEXDAIRE,  GENERAL   ST.  CLAIR's    ISLAND   HOME. 

THE  St.  Clair  family  were  refugees  from  the  coast 
of  South  Carolina,  uear 

"Where  bold  Port  Royal  spreads  its  mimic  sea  — 
Far  in  the  north,  the  lengthening  bay  and  sky, 
Blent  into  one,  its  shining  waters  lie ; 
And  southward,  breaking  on  the  shelving  shore, 
Meet  the  sea-wave,  and  swell  its  endless  roar. 
On  either  hand  gay  groups  of  i.slands  show 
Their  charms  reflected  in  the  streams  below. 
Ko  summer  land,  no  lovelier  isles  than  these, 
Ko  happier  homes  the  weary  traveller  sees. 

The  stately  mansion  occupied  by  General  St.  Clair's 
family,  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  was  built  upon 
the  ruins  of  an  ancestral  home,  which  had  withstood 
the  desolations  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle.  Every 
foot  of  the  soil  was  sacred  to  him.  It  was  more  than 
a  property  —  it  was  a  record  —  and  bound  to  his  soul 
by  all  the  traditions  of  the  past.  A  broad  colonnade 
extended  around  three  sides  of  the  dwelling,  and 
marble  steps  led  from  it  to  the  terrace,  which  extended 


GLENDAIRE.  —  rnj>-  ..n 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  31 

to  the  very  edge  of  the  water.  A  wide  liall,  with  its 
tesseHated  floor,  divided  the  lower  storv,  and  on  either 
side  were  suits  of  apartments,  elegantly  furnished.  In 
the  left  wing  was  a  picture-gallery,  containing  some 
of  the  finest  pictures  on  the  continent,  the  collection  of 
over  a  century,  and  from  both  the  New  and  Old 
worlds. 

But  to  all  who  have  visited  Glendaire,  the  liljrary 
will  be  the  spot  to  which  memory  will  most  lovingly 
take  them,  for  it  was  indeed  a  charming  retreat;  every 
taste  was  gratified,  and  it  was  perfect  in  all  its  appoint- 
ments.    The  richly  carved  book-cases  were  filled  with 
the  rarest  books,  while  scattered  around  upon  consoles 
and  tables  were  exquisitely  bound  magazines,  English, 
French,  and  Italian.    A  grand  piano  and  an  organ  filled 
the  alcoves ;  the  ceilings  were  lofty,  and  the  walls,  with 
their  classical  frescoes,  were  a  delicate  blue,  empanelled 
in  French  gray,  with  gilt  beading;  the  drapery  of  the 
windows  was  in  harmony  with  a  carpet  of  the  softest 
texture,  and  the    most  luxurious  chairs,  divans,  and 
lounges,  were  ensconced  in  every  nook.     Busts  of  Ital- 
ian marble  looked  down  from  their  lofty  heights,  sur- 
rounding cabinet  and  book-case,  and  the  fines'!  bronzes 
adorned    the    mantel.      In    the    bow-windows   were 
well-stocked   arpiaria,   and  just   outside,   hung   fancy 
cages  containing  mocking-birds,  whose  wild  and  in- 
spiring songs  were  a  whole  orchestra  in  themselves. 
The  south  portion  of  this  large  and  elegant  apartment 
liad  been  divided  off  by  French  plate-glass  doors,  and 
turned  into  a  conservatory;   the   rarest  exotics  grew 


32  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

here,  and  almost  burdened  the  air  with  their  delicious 
odor. 

Both  General  and  Mrs.  St.  Clair  were  accomplished 
musicians,  and  I  now  recall  with  delight  the  many 
twilight  hours  spent  in  that  grand  old  library,  sitting 
in  a  sleepy  hollow  chair,  breathing  the  perfumed  air, 
and  listening  to  them  as  they  played  and  sang  together. 
Sad  memory  now  takes  me  back  to  the  last  evening 
thus  spent.  Mrs.  St.  Clair  played  upon  the  organ  the 
soprano  air  from  the  Messiah  —  "I  know  that  my 
Redeemer  liveth,"  and  they  sang  it  together.  I  had 
never  before  heard  it  so  rendered,  and  I  never  shall 
again. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  had  been  educated  abroad,  principally 
in  Florence,  where  her  mother's  relatives  resided.  Her 
style  in  music  was  the  tender,  impassioned  Italian. 
She  never  sacrificed  expression  to  execution,  and  her 
trills  and  cadences  were  like  the  Avarblings  of  a  bird. 

The  grounds  surrounding  the  family  mansion  were 
in  harmony  with  it.  There  were  groves  of  orange  and 
lemon,  in  which  the  mock-bird  (Phoebus  of  the  Woods) 
trilled  her  thousand  notes  the  summer  lono^.  Mao^- 
nolias,  with  their  glossy  dark  leaves  lined  with  brown, 
and  trees  of  japonicas,  over  fifteen  feet  in  height,  grew, 
with  heliotropes,  citrenas,  geraniums,  and  myrtle,  in 
the  open  air.  Patriarchal  live-oaks,  —  the  Druids  of 
our  Southern  woods,  —  whose  gigantic  limbs  were 
adorned  with  a  graceful  drapery  of  moss,  gave  a  look 
of  dignity  and  antiquity,  which  the  gay  Pagoda  boat- 
houses  could   not   dispel.     The    children   called  their 


THE  NEGRO  QUARTERS  AT  GLEXDAIRE.  —  Paje  33- 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.   CLAIR.  33 

rustic  seats,  built  in  tlic  spreading;  bouglis  of  the  trees, 
"eyries;'*  —  tliere  they  fed  their  tame  squirrels,  while 
pet  fawns  tinkled  their  silver  bells,  as  they  sported  on 
the  lawn  below. 

About  half  u  mile  from  the  dwelling  was  a  village, 
containing  over  one  hundred  dazzlingly  white  cottages, 
each  surrounded  by  a  paling  fence,  enclosing  an  acre 
of  ground.  These  cottages  were  occupied  by  the  slaves 
belonging  to  the  estate.  To  each  family  was  allotted  a 
cottage,  and  they  grew  their  own  vegetables,  raised 
their  own  poultry  and  pigs,  and  many  of  them  culti- 
vated a  few  fiowers,  of  which  the  colored  race  are  quite 
fond.  In  every  enclosure,  you  would  find  suspended 
from  tall  cypress  poles  a  number  of  calabashes,  which 
furni;,hed  homes  to  thousands  of  swallows,  whose  mu- 
sical twittering  was  not  only  pleasant,  but  useful,  for 
they  kept  away  the  hawk  from  the  growing  poultry. 

'^Calni  in  liis  peaceful  liome,  the  slave  prepares 
His  garden  spot,  and  plies  his  rustic  cares. 
The  comb  and  honey  that  his  bees  afford, 
The  eggs  in  ample  gourd  compactly  stored, 
His  pigs  and  poultry,  with  a  huckster's  art, 
He  sells,  or  barters  at  the  village  mart, 
Or  at  the  master's  mansion  never  fails 
An  ampler  i>rice  to  find,  and  readier  sales." 

So  sang  Grayson,  who  described  "  Carolina  Planta- 
tion Life"  as  only  one  of  her  own  sons  could,  and 
contrasted  the  life  of  the  working-class  at  the  South 
with  the  miners  of  England,  who  herd  together  in 
hovels  unfit  for  swine.     "  Fifty  men  sleeping  in  sixteen 


34  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

beds  on  the  damp  eartli,"  and  in  Devonshire  "whole 
flimilies  of  six  and  eight  sleeping  in  one  bed  ;"  and  a 
traveller  writes  that  "  in  White  Chai)el  an  empty  eask 
placed  along  the  street  would  in  a  few  hours  fnid  a 
tenant,  while  many  poor  creatures  whom  I  saw  were 
eating  with  avidity  tlic  offal  from  the  gutters/'  and  yet, 
children,  this  very  same  English  nation,  ignoring  its 
own  starving  millions,  shrieked  out  in  agony  over  the 
dreadful  sufferings  of  your  fathers'  servants,  in  their 
clean  white  cabins,  and,  in  many  of  the  books  which 
they  wrote  for  you  to  read,  they  pictured  the  horrors 
of  slavery,  until  those  of  you  who  were  too  young  to 
remember  the  old  plantation  life  are  almost  brought  to 
believe  your  parents  the  savage  monsters  they  painted. 
Even  in  our  own  country  this  is  too  much  the  case, 
and  we  can  scarcely  take  up  a  child's  book  to  read  for 
instruction  or  pleasure,  but  that  the  facts  regarding  the 
South  are  so  distorted,  we  lay  it  down  with  disgust; 
and  that  brings  us  to  a  point  in  our  story  where  — 
(although  a  digression)  —  I  will  give  my  reasons  for 
writing  this  little  book.  Sailing  up  the  Hudson  a  few 
summers  ago,  with  a  party  from  the  South,  I  was  at- 
tracted by  a  little  fellow  who  was  reading,  with  the 
most  intense  interest,  a  book  his  grandparents  had 
purchased  in  New  York,  and  given  him  to  read,  with- 
out first  reading  it  themselves.  The  little  boy  was 
only  ten  years  old,  a  gentlemanly  little. fellow,  and 
quite  fond  of  reading.  We  passed  point  after  point 
of  interest  on  the  river ;  sometimes  he  was  left  entirely 
alone,  while  the  passengers  all  went  on  the  other  side, 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.   CLAIR.  35 

to  look  at  some  place  we  were  passing.  Boys  have 
always  had  an  attraction  for  me  ;  I  love  to  study  them, 
and  this  child  was  so  unlike  the  wild,  romping  boys 
who  were  on  board  that  day,  and  were  urging  him 
every  five  minutes  to  join  them,  that  I  took  my  seat  and 
determined  to  make  his  a('({uaintance.  While  I  sat 
turning  it  over  in  my  own  mind,  whether  "  I  had  any 
right,  just  for  my  own  pleasure,  to  interrupt  his  read- 
ing," I  saw  him  knit  his  brow,  clinch  liis  fist,  and  set 
his  teeth  firmly  on  his  lip.  I  moved  over,  and  took 
my  scat  by  him.  "  What  are  you  reading,  my  son  ?'' 
I  asked.  "  I  am  reading  a  story  about  the  war,  and 
just  think,"  he  said,  looking  up  to  me,  with  his  brown 
eyes  flashing,  "  our  Confederate  soldiers  cut  down  all 
the  trees  'round  a  pen,  and  made  the  Yankee  soldiers 
go  in  it ;  then  they  tied  them  to  a  tree,  and  fastened 
their  eyes  open,  so  the  sun  could  blaze  right  into  them. 
I  never  thought  they  would  have  done  such  a  thing, 
did  you  ?  It  must  have  been  after  my  papa  was  killed, 
for  he  would  never  let  us  be  cruel  even  to  an  animal. 
I  am  ashamed  of  them,  for  this  book  is  full  of  the 
awfullest  things  about  Southern  people.  Why,  you 
don't  know  how  they  used  to  do  the  poor  slaves; 
they  would  hitch  them  into  ploughs,  and  make  them 
plough  up  the  ground,  instead  of  using  mules,"  said 
he,  in  the  most  excited  manner.  "Why,  what  made 
them  do  that?  "  I  asked,  "  when  they  could  buy  twenty 
mules  for  the  same  money  that  they  would  have  to  pay 
for  one  good  negro,  strong  enough  to  draw  a  plough 
throu<rh  a  furrow." 


36  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

He  looked  at  me  a  minute,  and  said,  "  I  don't 
know.     What  do  you  think  ?  " 

I  took  the  book  from  him,  closed  it,  and  said,  ^'  It 
is  a  wicked  book,  full  of  lies,  my  son,  and  it  is  just 
such  bad  books  as  these  that  brought  on  the  terrible 
war,  in  which  your  dear,  kind  father  was  killed. 
Women,  and  men,  who  want  to  make  money,  sit  down 
and  write  these  falsehoods  about  places,  and  people, 
they  have  never  seen,  and  as  long  as  they  can  sell  their 
books  they  do  not  care  how  much  harm  they  do. 
People  must  have  something  to  read.  In  this  way 
the  Northern  people  have  been  taught  to  look  upon 
the  Southern  people  as  a  parcel  of  slave-drivers,  and 
slavery  as  a  system  of  chains,  whips,  and  tortures ;  and 
they  have  dealt  so  much  in  metaphorical  fetters,  and 
prisons,  that  they  have  actually  taught  themselves  to 
believe  our  negroes  worked  in  chains,  and  lived  in 
dungeons.  When  Frederika  Bremer  visited  Charles- 
ton, years  ago,  she  quite  horrified  one  old  auntie  by 
asking  her  ^if  the  colored  people  did  not  live  under- 
ground and  eat  worms  ? '  '  Eat  wurrums  ! '  shrieked 
out  Aunt  Chloe.  '  My  God,  ole  missis,  I  nebber  hear 
tell  ob  such  a  ting  in  all  my  life.  AY  hat  dey  gwine  to 
eat  wurrums  for?  Wurrums  eat  colored  people,  and 
white  people  too,  after  they  get  under  the  ground ;  but 
I  nebber  hear  tell  of  no  colored  j^usson  eat  wurrums.^ 
And  she  showed  so  much  contempt  at  the  question, 
that  Miss  Bremer  ventured  no  further  inquiries.  Miss 
Bremer  had  read  just  such  books  as  you  are  reading 
now,  and,  being  a  good  and  truthful  lady  herself,  she 


F  IT  Z- II  UGH    ST.    CLAIR.  37 

believed  these  vile,  lying  authors,  until  she  eanie  and 
saw  for  herself." 

"  Then  why  don't  our  Southern  people  write  us  some 
books?"  he  asked.  "I  never  could  get  a  'Child's 
History  of  the  War/  at  home.  I  had  to  buy  this  one 
in  New  York."  And  he  handed  me  an  "  Illustrated 
History  of  the  War,"  written  by  John  Bonner,  and 
published  by  the  Harpers. 

I  opened  it  casually,  and  upon  the  second  page  read, 
that  "  the  people  of  South  Carolina  caused  the  war,  be- 
cause they  hated  the  Union,  and  wanted  to  establish  a 
separate  nation,  in  which  every  white  man  should  own 
slaves,  and  live  in  idleness  on  the  black  man's  labor, 
without  panng  him  for  it.  When  a  Republican  Presi- 
dent was  elected,  these  bad  and  foolish  men  said  the 
long- wished  for  pretext  had  come,  and  the  Union  must 
be  dissolved.  The  Governor  (one  Gist)  called  his 
Legislature,  and  sent  word  to  them,  '  the  State  ought 
to  secede.'  Then  one  Magrath,  a  United  States  judge, 
who  had  taken  a  solemn  oath  to  be  faithful  to  the 
United  States,  stripped  off'  his  robes  in  open  court,  and- 
said,  *  United  States  officers  had  no  business  in  South 
Carolina,' &c.,  &c The  South  Carolina  Congress- 
men resigned,  which  was  a  good  riddance.  No  one 
raised  a  hand  to  stop  these  crazy  people.  The  Southern 
politicians,  and  the  newspapers,  inflamed  their  minds  by 
lying  and  abusing  the  North  ;  and  whenever  a  State 
pretended  to  secede,  the  Governors  and  other  ring- 
leaders fell  to  robbing  the  United  States,"  &c. 

"  The  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  Howell  Cobb,  tried 
4 


38  FITZ-II  UGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

to  ruin  the  credit  of  the  United  States,  and  when  he 

had  done  all  the  mischief  he  could,  he  resigned 

The  Secretary  of  War,  Floyd,  stole  money  and  arms, 
sent  them  South,  and  then  ran  away ; ''  and  so  on,  in 
this  same  style,  were  all  Southern  officials  represented 
(or  rather  misrepresented).  'Mefferson  Davis  was 
chiefly  known  as  a  firm  foe  to  the  payment  of  honest 
debts." 

"Alexander  H.  Stephens  was  a  weak  politician  from 
Georgia,  who  had  just  denounced  the  rebellion  in  the 

strongest  terms The  first  gun  of  the  war  was 

fired  by  a  crack-brained  old  man,  who  fired  another 
shot,  after  the  war,  into  his  own  brains." 

"  In  Mississippi,  before  the  war,  it  was  not  thought 
disgraceful  to  shoot  a  man  in  the  street ;  to  drink  from 
morning  until  night;  to  whip,  outrage,  and  maim 
women,  young  girls,  and  even  children,  if  they  were 
colored."  All  this,  and  a  great  deal  more,  I  read  in 
this  "  Popular  History,"  which  (I  saw  by  the  papers) 
was  "introduced  into  all  schools,  and  regarded  as  the 
most  correct,  complete,  and  interesting  history  of  the 
Eebelliou  published."  In  another,  one  of  Rene's  new 
books,  in  which  the  author  professed  to  be  writing  his- 
tory, there  was  an  account  given  of  the  shooting  of 
Willie  Shelton,  "  a  bright,  beautiful  boy  of  twelve,  by 
order  of  Colonel  Allen,  of  North  Carolina.  The  poor 
little  fellow  clung  to  the  knees  of  the  brutal  colonel, 
and  implored  him  not  to  have  him  shot  in  the  face. 
They  tore  his  hands  from  their  grasp,  forced  him  to 
stand  up,  and  fired  at  him,  as  he  stood  trembling  and 


F  I  T  Z  -  II  U  G  II    S  T  .    C  L  A  I  R  .  39 

covering  his  face  witli  his  little  huiuls.  The  faee  of 
the  poor  little  child  was  literally  torn  to  pieces.  He 
was  not  killed,  however,  and  pleaded  piteonsly  with  his 
mnrderers  to  spare  his  life,  but,  at  the  coniniand  of  the 
llebeL  eoloncl,  beastly  soldiers  dragged  him  up,  tied 
Ins  little  body  to  a  tree,  and  riddled  it  with  bullets,  all 
because  his  parents  were  supposed  to  be  h)yal."  \Vq 
have  found  out  since  that  an  account  of  this  fiendish 
shooting  is  given  almost  word  for  word  in  Bonner's 
history  also  ;  and  yet,  after  months  of  correspondence, 
and  the  most  scrutinizing  seareh  for  the  authenticity 
of  the  statements,  we  are  constrained  to  pronounce  the 
whole  narrative  a  vile  fabrication,  from  beginning  to 
end.  Even  the  characters  never  existed,  except  in  the 
fertile  imagination  of  the  so-called  historian. 

"  Let  us  have  peace,''  "  Forget  the  animosities  of  the 
past,"  "  Accept  the  situation,"  is  advice  given  by  the 
Korth  to  the  South,  in  every  book,  paper,  speech,  and 
sermon.  It  sounds  like  a  mockery  to  us,  who  are  so 
earnestly  pleading  for  peace.  "  Forget  the  animosities 
of  the  past !  "  They  are  not  past,  but  arc  daily  being 
lieaped  upon  us,  even  when  our  humiliation,  poverty, 
and  oppression  might  move  to  pity.  "  Forget."  How 
gladly  would  we  forget,  if  they  would  only  permit  it. 
"Accept  the  situation."  Have  we  not  accepted  it, 
with  its  disgrace,  degradation,  and  torture?  At  the 
command  of  our  masters,  have  we  not  confiscated,  with 
our  own  hands,  property  to  the  amount  of  billions,  and 
by  the  product  of  our  mortgaged  cotton-fields  helped 
to  pay  the  debt  incurred  in  our  subjugation?     A\  hat 


40  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

more  must  we  accept  ?  As  History,  the  books  denounc- 
ing our  sainted  dead  ?   Surely,  you  cannot  demand  this. 

AYhy,  if  we  should  keep  silence,  while  our  children 
were  beinc^  taught  that  their  hero  fathers  were  "  fiends, 
brutes,  thieves,  and  murderers,"  the  very  stones  would 
cry  out  against  us.  No,  we  cannot  let  our  children  be- 
lieve your  History  of  the  War,  even  though  taught  by 
some  from  whom  we  expected  better,  and  who  ought  to 
pity,  if  they  cannot  love  their  poor,  suffering  people,  and 
not,  in  the  hour  of  our  humiliation,  add  their  influence  to 
the  weight  of  prejudice  already  so  bitter  and  unrelenting. 

At  the  request  of  little  Rene  we  have  written  this 
book,  and  we  earnestly  beg  our  boys  not  to  skip  the 
liistorical  -part.  Every  Southern  boy  ought  to  be  able 
to  defend  from  defamation  the  memory  of  his  father, 
and  the  brave  heroes  who  fell  in  defence  of  ^'  Southern 
rights,"  and  you  cannot  do  it  successfully  unless  you 
acquaint  yourself  with  the  history  of  the  war,  its  causes, 
and  the  way  in  which  it  was  carried  on.  I  have  con- 
sulted, as  authority,  the  best  historians.  North  *  as  well 
as.  South ;  and  if  you  will  carefully  read  and  study 
what  I  have  written,  you  will  not  be  duped,  as  our 
little  Alabama  boy  was,  by  authors  who,  for  the  sake 
of  making  money, 

"Cheat  with  delusive  lips  the  iDublic  mind, 
Invent  the  cruelty  they  fail  to  find ; 
Slander  in  pious  garb,  with  prayer  and  hymn. 
And  blast  our  peoj^le's  fortunes  for  a  whim." 

*  Lunt,  and  I  believe  one  other  intelligent,  honest  historian  of  the 
North,  has  had  the  courage  to  be  true  to  history,  although  they 
incurred  condemnation  for  it. 


FITZ-lir(;ll    ST.    CLAIR.  41 

And  now  we  will  take  you  l)ack  to  Glendairc,  for 
we  love  to  write,  talk,  and  think  of  it  as  it  was,  when 
all  was  happiness  and  peaee,  before  the  devastations  of 
the  dreadful  war  had  made  a  wilderness  of  it.  Be- 
tween General  St.  Clair  and  his  slaves  there  existed, 
on  the  one  hand,  a  kind  of  sympathizing,  protecting 
care,  and,  on  the  other,  an  affection  as  devoted  and 
sincere  as  the  clansman  to  his  Highland  chief 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  dwelling-house,  em- 
bosomed in  trees,  was  the  "  Mission  Chapel,"  as  the 
plantation  churches  were  called.  It  was  not  a  proud 
temple,  with  its  marble  dome  emulating  the  skies,  but 
a  plain,  substantial  frame  building,  where  owners  and 
slaves  met  to  worship  together  the  Great  God  who 
made  them. 

"  No  rites  of  pomp  or  pride  beguiled  the  soul ; 
No  organ  pealed,  no  clouds  of  incense  roll ; 
But,  line  by  line,  untutored  voices  raise, 
Like  the  wild  birds,  their  simple  notes  of  praise ; 
And  hearts  of  love,  with  true  devotion,  bring 
Incense  more  pure  to  Heaven's  Eternal  King," 

"  Preaching  day,"  on  this  plantation,  was  not  Sab- 
bath day,  for  the  clergyman  who  preached  had  charge 
also  of  the  spiritual  interests  of  three  other  plantations, 
therefore  Sabbath  preaching  came  to  Glendaire  only 
every  fourth  Sunday.  But  once  a  week,  regularly,  on 
Wednesday,  the  horn  called  the  hands  from  the  fields, 
and,  after  washing  themselves,  they  put  on  their  best 
clothes,  and  went  to  the  chapel,  where  they  heard  a 
sermon  adapted  to  their  capacities,  and  the  children 
4* 


42  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

were  catechized  by  the  missionary,  the  ladies  of  the 
family  often  becoming  his  assistants.  On  Sunday  the 
negroes  conducted  their  own  services  in  their  own  way, 
(for  upon  a  large  plantation,  there  were  seldom  less 
than  half  a  dozen  preachers,  or  "  exhorters.")  Sunday 
was  a  great  day  at  Glcndaire ;  there  was  some  religious 
service  going  on  in  the  chapel  from  morning  until 
night.  Women,  as  well  as  men,  took  part  in  these  ex- 
ercises, and  some  of  the  ^'  experiences  "  were  rich.  Old 
Aunt  Charity  used  to  tell  how  she  "  had  been  riding 
the  Gospel  Horse  eighteen  hundred  and  thirty-three 
years,  and  it  had  never  throwed  her,  'cept  when  she 
fell  off  herself."  One  young  man,  who  was  censured 
by  his  leader  for  going  over  to  the  other  plantations 
on  Sunday,  instead  of  hearing  his  own  preachers,  said, 
"  My  religion  ain't  no  squeezcd-up  little  concern.  I 
am  a  Methodist  with  the  Methodisses,  a  Baptist  with 
the  Baptisses,  and  a  'Piscopalian  with  the  'Piscopals." 

"  Yes,  my  brudder,"  interrupted  Aunt  Charity,  the 
dairy-maid,  "milk  nebber  does  cream  till  he  settle; 
do  think  'pon  dat,  when  you  run  'bout  so  like  a  gos- 
pel-gadder; it  ain't  'spcctable,  brudder." 

Negroes  sing  as  naturally  as  birds,  and  there  is  no 
music  this  side  of  tlie  pearly  gates  more  inspiring  tlian 
I  have  heard  at  Glendairc,  when  several  hundred 
negroes,  under  tlie  grand  old  oaks,  in  siglit  of  the 
broad  ocean,  sang  "The  Old  Ship  of  Zion,"  their 
bodies  swaying  back  and  forth,  and  keeping  time  with 
the  music,  the  different  parts  being  all  carried  on  and 
sustained.     Well  might  Lady  IMurray  say :  "  I  never 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.   CLAIR.  43 

saw  servants  in  any  old  Englisli  family  more  comfort- 
able, or  more  devoted.  Slic  declared  it  "  really  a  relief 
to  see  anytliing  so  patriarchal,  after  seeing  the  saucy, 
grumbling  Mielp '  in  the  Northern  States." 

A  pleasure-boat  was  as  indispensable  to  an  island 
planter  as  a  carriage.  The  waters  abound  in  every 
variety  of  the  most  delicious  iish.  One  hour  on  the 
bav  will  at  any  time  provide  an 

"Apician  feast 
Fit  for  the  table  of  a  prince  or  priest," 

The  negroes  had  their  canoes,  in  which  to  "go 
fishing,''  and  nothing  could  be  more  romantically 
delightful  than  their  boat-liorns  on  the  water  at  mid- 
night, or  the  cheerful  boat-songs,  to  which  their  oars 
kept  time  as  they  rowed  to  the  oyster-beds.  They  are  a 
sensual,  pleasure-loving  people,  and  under  the  old  planta- 
tion police,  their  pastimes  were  of  necessity  all  innocent. 
Xo  drinking  or  gambling  was  allowed,  but  they  always 
had  in  anticipation  some  frolic  peculiar  to  the  season. 
In  June,  with  lighted  torch,  they  searched  the  beach 
for  the  turtle,  who  came  up  to  deposit  their  eggs  in  the 
sand,  and  were  captured  by  the  hundred  ;  or  the  ring- 
ing axe  told  us  they  had  discovered  the  luscious  store- 
house of  the  bee,  and  were  robbing  it  of  its  treasure. 
In  winter,  a  "possum  up  the  gum-tree,"  or  a  "rac- 
coon in  the  hollow,"  would  be  attraction  sufficient 
to  keep  them  up  until  midnight.  These,  with  "  corn 
shockings,"  "'harvest  homes,"  and  the  protracted 
Christmas  frolics, gave  the  old  plantation  darkies  more 


44  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

seasons  of  enjoyment  than  usually  fell   to  any  other 
working  class  in  the  world,  for 

"Xature  had,  with  loving,  bounteous  hand, 
Poured  richest  bl&ssings  on  this  Southern  land. 
Magnolias  bright,  with  glossy  leaves  and  flowers, 
Fragrant  as  Eden  in  its  happiest  hours; 
The  gloomy  cypress,  towering  to  the  skies, 
The  maple,  loveliest  in  autumnal  dyes, 
The  palm  armorial,  with  its  tufted  head, 
Vines  over  all  in  wild  luxuriance  spread. 
And  columned  pines  —  a  mystic  wood  one  sees, 
That  sighs,  and  whispers,  to  the  passing  breeze. 
In  this  bright  home,  how  changed  the  negro's  fate ! 
How  much  more  blessed  than  in  his  native  state, 
Where  mummeries  dupe,  and  fetich  charms  affright, 
And  rites  obscene,  diffuse  their  moral  blight ; 
In  sloth  and  error  sunk,  for  countless  years 
His  race  had  lived,  but  light  at  last  appears. 
In  this  South  land,  religion  undefiled 
Dawned  in  the  heart  of  Congo's  simple  child  — 
Its  glorious  truths  he  hears  with  glad  surprise^ 
And  lifts  his  eyes  with  rapture  to  the  skies." 


CHxVPTER  Y. 

THE  ATTACK  OF  THE  FEDERAL  FLEET. 

OX  the  7th  of  Xovember,  1861,  as  Fitz  was  in  the 
obsovvator}'-on  top  of  tlie  house,  from  which  could 
be  obtained  a  splendid  view  of  the  magnificent  bay 
and  harbor  of  Port  Royal,  —  a  harbor  which  Ril)ault 
said  "  was  fit  to  contain  the  argosies  of  the  world,"  — 
he  saw  a  number  of  vessels  entering,  and  not  know- 
ino"  what  it  meant,  he  called  his  father's  attention  to 
them.  "  It  is  a  Federal  fleet,  I  am  afraid,  my  son," 
replied  the  General ;  and  it  proved  to  be  the  formidable 
fleet  under  command  of  Admiral  Dupont. 

General  St.  Clair  knew  that  there  were  but  two 
sand  batteries  to  oppose  their  entrance,  and  if  at  all 
skilfully  managed,  the  whole  fleet  —  with  a  full  head 
of  steam  —  could  in  less  than  one  hour,  without  firing 
a  gun,  pass  rapidly  up,  and  place  themselves  beyond 
the  very  longest  range  of  the  guns  of  both  batteries 
reversed,  capture  their  garrisons,  and  threaten  Savan- 
nah by  the  way  of  Calabogue  Sound.  This  brilliant 
coup  d^ctat  was  not  accomplished,  however,  the  Admiral 

45 


46  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

satisfying  himself  by  fighting  —  for  lioiirs  —  our  poor 
little  dirt  forts,  and  opening  up  a  way  to  the  town  of 
Beaufort.  The  Confederate  authorities  immediately 
ordered  the  inhabitants  to  ^'  leave  their  homes ; "  no 
option  was  left  them,  or  any  time  allowed  to  make 
preparations.  With  barely  a  cliange  of  clotliing,  they 
left  their  homes,  expecting  to  return  in  a  few  weeks. 

It  was  General  St.  Clair's  firm  belief  that  "  years,'' 
and  not  days  would  elapse  before  this  cruel  and  un- 
natural  war  would  cease ;  so  he  purchased  for  his  exiled 
family  a  home  in  the  interior  of  tlie  State,  and  after 
furnishing  it,  and  seeing  them  comfortably  established 
in  it,  he  made  his  arrangements  to  retuvn  to  his  military 
duties. 

The  thought  of  his  leaving  them,  now  that  they  were 
refugees  from  home,  and  among  strangers,  plunged 
them  into  the  deepest  grief.  Mrs.  St.  Clair  was  a 
frail,  delicate  woman,  the  only  child  of  a  doting  father. 
"  Her  life  had  been  a  summer's  story  told  in  flowers." 
At  the  age  of  ten  she  went  abroad  to  be  educated,  and 
until  a  few  months  previous  to  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war,  when  her  fond  father  was  suddenly  taken  from 
her  by  death,  she  had  known  noticing  of  sorrow  or 
death  in  her  family.  Xow  they  were  following  each 
other  in  rapid  succession,  for  troubles  always  march 
in  battalions. 

She  could  not  bring  herself  to  consent  to  a  separation 
so  fraught  with  danger  to  her  husband,  and  misery  to 
herself.  The  sacrifice,  she  felt,  was  too  great,  and  in 
agony  she  prayed,  "  Let  the  cup  pass  from  me." 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  47 

The  family  consisted  of  four  children  —  Fitz-TIiiij^h, 
sixteen  years  of  age ;  Rena,  who  inherited  with  her 
mother's  rare  beanty  her  delicate  constitution,  and 
whose  health  was  just  now  the  cause  of  many  anxious 
forebodings ;  Harry,  and  Clara  the  two-year-old  baby. 
These,  with  old  Mr.  St.  Clair,  the  father  of  the  Gen- 
eral, composed  the  family. 

General  St.  Clair  was  a  devoted  father,  and  his 
children  warmly  reciprocated  his  love.  He  was  the 
confidant  of  their  childish  griefs,  and  entered  with 
delight  into  all  their  pleasures.  When  in  their  own 
beautiful  island  home,  he  devoted  to  them  a  part  of 
every  day,  giving  them  lessons  of  wisdom,  which  a 
less  interested  teacher  would  not  have  taken  the  trouble 
to  impart.  To  these  hours 'Svith  papa  in  the  library," 
they  looked  forward  with  delight,  and  their  teacher 
had  only  to  threaten  keeping  them  in  the  school-room 
"  papa's  hour,"  to  make  them  pay  all  the  attention  she 
desired. 

Fitz,  being  the  oldest,  had  been  treated  by  both 
father  and  mother  more  like  a  companion  than  a 
child.  If  at  any  time  his  mind  was  not  clear  upon 
any  subject,  he  had  not  the  slightest  hesitancy  in 
applying  to  his  father  for  the  necessary  information. 
At  this  time  he  was  greatly  exercised  as  to  what  was 
really  his  father's  duty.  It  seemed  almost  unfeeling 
in  him  to  leave  them  in  their  present  condition,  de- 
prived of  almost  all  the  comforts  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed  all  their  lives.  So  he  resolved,  if 
possible,  to  have  his  doubts  removed,  and  modestly 


48  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

approaching  liis  father,  he  asked  him  "if  he  did  not 
regard  the  request  an  improper  one,  to  be  kind  enough 
to  give  him  his  reasons  for  leaving  his  family  when 
they  stood  so  much  in  need  of  his  love  and  protection." 
"  Your  request  is  by  no  means  an  improper  one,  my 
son,"  replied  the  General.  "  You  have  a  right  to 
know  the  motives  that  actuate  me,  and  I  will  take 
pleasure  in  convincing  you  that  nothing  but  a  most 
imperative  sense  of  duty  would  tear  me  from  my  dear 
family.  Prepare  all  your  questions,  and  to-morrow 
evening  propound  them,  and  I  will  answer  them,  one 
and  all,  to  the  best  of  my  ability." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    CHAT   ABOUT   CHILDREN. 

O  AY  to  any  one  who  may  call  this  evening  that  I 
^  am  engaged,  and  cannot  see  company/^  said  Gen- 
eral St.  Clair,  uj^on  leaving  the  tea-room,  to  the  butler. 

"  Are  you  going  out,  xVrthur  ?  "  asked  his  wife. 

"  Not  farther  than  the  library,  little  wife.  I  have  an 
engagement  with  Fitz  this  evening ;  please  see  that  we 
are  not  interrupted." 

"  ^Yhat  a  peculiar  man  your  husband  is,  ^Mrs.  St. 
Clair,''  said  a  young  lady  guest,  as  the  General  left 
the   room.     "  Who   ever   heard   of  such   a   thino*  — 

o 

excuse,  or  deny  himself  to  visitors  because  of  an  en- 
gagement with  his  child.  He  could  not  pay  greater 
deference  to  the  President." 

"  Why  should  he  wish  to,  Blanche  ?  There  is  no 
one  who  has  a  higher  opinion  of  President  Davis  than 
my  husband,  but  he  would  not  break  an  engagement 
with  Fitz,  even  to  entertain  him,  under  ordinary 
circumstances." 

"Are  you   not  afraid  that  treating  your  children 


50  FITZ-HUGU    ST.    CLAIR. 

with  SO  miic'li  respect  will  make  them  think  themselves 
of  too  much  importance?" 

"  Xot  at  all.  I  think  there  is  more  danger  of 
underrating,  than  of  overrating  children.  As  a  general 
thing,  children  do  not  have  respect  enough  paid  them ; 
instead  of  treating  them  as  our  juniors,  we  treat  them 
as  our  inferiors.'^ 

"  Then  you  go  in  for  spoiling  the  little  ones,  I  see, 
and  would  teach  them  that  they  may  with  impunity 
obtrude  their  wants,  and  make  demands  upon  our  at- 
tention whenever  they  feel  disposed  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  by  no  manner  of  means ;  I  abhor  a  spoiled 
child.  But  children  are  human  beings,  and  naturally 
liave  wants ;  many  of  these,  true,  are  unreasonable, 
but  some  of  them  are  not ;  it  is  our  duty  as  parents  to 
teach  them  this.  Now,  our  children  know  we  love 
them,  and  are  willing  to  do  anything  reasonable  that 
will  add  to  their  haj^pincss.  If  we  cannot  comply 
with  their  requests,  we  never  think  it  a  condescension 
to  explain  to  them  the  reason  why  we  do  not  think  it 
right  to  do  so.  I  think  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
tyranny  and  clap-trap  in  this  preached-up,  ^  blind 
faith,'  and  ^  unquestioning  obedience,'  and  the  rest 
of  that  sort  of  stuff.  I  think  God  requires  us  to  have 
an  intelligent  faith,  and  in  order  to  this  we  are  com- 
manded to  '  search  the  Scriptures.'  " 

^'  Our  children  have  been  taught  the  sacredness  of 
a  promise  ])y  us  in  this  way :  We  never  break  one 
made  to  them,  any  more  than  we  would  to  a  stranger. 
Having  their  rights  recognized,  impresses  them  Avith  a 
proper  self-respect,  and  they  learn  to  be  truthful." 


FITZ-nUCill    ST.   CLAIR.  51 

"  There  is  cortainly  something  in  that.  Sue  ^lillcr 
told  me  her  little  8o])hie  laught  her  a  lesson  yesterday 
she  should  not  soon  forget.  Old  Mrs.  Gossip  has  been 
in  the  habit  of  inflicting  two  of  her  interminable  visits 
upon  Sue  every  week,  and  never  seems  to  think  she 
has  anything  to  do  but  listen  to  her  everlasting  yarns 
about  the  neiglibors.  Yesterday,  Sue  made  up  her 
mind  she  would  not  be  bored  by  her,  so  she  told 
Sophie,  who  was  playing  in  the  garden,  that  if  Mrs. 
Gossip  came  she  must  not  let  her  come  up  to  the  house, 
but  tell  her  at  the  gate  that  ^  mamma  was  not  at  home.^ 
A  while  after  Sophie  came  in,  and  quietly  seated 
herself  in  the  window. 

"  ^  Are  you  tired  of  playing  with  your  new  ball 
already,  Sophie  ? '  asked  her  mamma. 

"  ^  Xo,  ma'am.' 

"  ^  Then  why  do  you  come  in,  darling  ?  * 

"  ^  Because,  mamma,  I  did  not  want  to  be  out  there 
when  Mrs.  Gossip  came.  She  is  deaf,  and  if  I  hol- 
lowed out  a  lie  to  her,  God  would  hear  it,  and  the  little 
angels  would  be  so  sorry,  because  I  am  a  Sunday 
school  scholar ; '  and  the  truthful,  brown  eyes  filled 
with  tears  at  the  thought. 

"Sue  says  she  never  felt  worse  in  her  life,  and  tried 
to  explain  to  Sophie  that  '  not  at  home '  was  a  society 
phrase  for  ^  busy,  engaged,  or  not  at  home  to  see  com- 
pany,' and  did  not  mean  really  ^absent  from  the  house.' 

"  ^  Then,  mamma,  I  will  tell  her  mamma  is  at  home, 
but  not  at  home  to  see  company:  can't  I?' 

"  *  No,  dear,  that  would  make  Mrs.  Gossip  angry.' 


52  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

" '  But  I  am  afraid  God  don't  understand  tliein 
other  ways,  and  I  would  rather  a  thousand  thnes  make 
Mrs.  Gossip  vexed,  than  to  make  God  angry.' 

"It  was  a  sermon  with  an  application,  if  it  was 
preached  by  a  little  five-year-old.'^ 

"  This  '  fear  of  man '  is  a  terrible  snare,  and  so  few 
dare  to  be  honest,"  said  iMrs.  St.  Clair,  with  a  sigh. 

"  ^lamma,  mamma !  only  just  see  how  Beppo  has 
torn  up  my  nice  new  hat,"  said  little  Harry,  running 
in,  his  brown  curls  tossed  in  every  direction,  and  hold- 
ing the  tattered  hat  in  his  hand. 

"  Why,  how  in  the  world  did  Beppo  get  the  hat 
from  the  hat-rack?"  said  his  mother. 

"  He  did  n't,  mamma ;  I  left  it  in  the  yard,  when  I 
came  in  to  supper." 

"  ^yhy  then,  of  course,  Beppo  thought  you  did  not 
care  for  it,  but  had  left  it  for  him  to  play  with ;  so  he 
is  not  to  blame." 

"  But,  mamma,  what  will  I  do  ?  Papa  said  this  was 
to  last  me  until  spring." 

"  I  Avill  try  and  sew  it  uj).  I  am  sorry  my  little 
son  is  so  careless,  and  I  hope  having  to  wear  a  shabby 
hat,  will  teach  him  a  lesson  he  will  not  forget." 

Harry  buried  his  little  face  in  his  apron,  and,  burst- 
ing into  tears,  left  the  room. 

"You  are  not  in  earnest  about  making  that  dear 
little  fellow  wear  that  ragged  hat  all  this  season,  are 
you  ?  "  said  Miss  Blanche. 

"  I  wound  to  heal.  Harry,  young  as  he  is,  loves 
dress,  and  is  very  heedless.     You  will  readily  see  what 


FITZ-IIU  Gil    ST.    CLAIR.  53 

a  temptation  this  combination  will  be  to  him.  If  he 
were  careful,  he  could  always  look  neat,  no  matter  how 
limited  his  means ;  but  if  he  is  profligate,  and  at  the 
same  time  has  extravagant  tastes,  he  will  either  have 
to  run  in  debt,  or  do  worse  if  his  income  is  at  all  strait- 
ened. So  I  must  help  my  boy  overcome  the  failing 
now,  before  it  becomes  a  habit.'' 

"  Fitz  is  perfection,  is  he  not?  "  asked  Miss  Blanche. 
"  I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  heard  of  his  doing 
anything  wrong,  even  by  accident." 

"  Fitz  is  a  good  boy,"  said  his  mother,  with  emo- 
tion ;  "  but  he  has  naturally  a  violent  temper,  and  only 
learned  to  control  it  by  strong  effort  and  unceasing 
watchfulness.  Until  he  became  a  Christian,  we  were 
exceedingly  anxious;  but  'God's  grace  ls  sufficient/ 
and  as  he  has  professed  Christ,  we  believe  he  will  be 
kept  faithful ;  for  we  are  assured  that  '  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  encampeth  round  about  them  that  fear  him,  and 
delivereth  them '  from  temptation  and  sin." 
5* 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GENERAL  ST.    CLAIR's   EXPLANATION   AS   TO   THE 
CAUSES    OF   THE   WAR. 

"TTTHEN  General  St.  Clair  went  into  the  library,  he 
»  '  found  Fitz  aAvaiting  him.  Going  to  the  book- 
case, he  took  down  a  number  of  old  books,  Congres- 
sional documents,  and  some  scrap-books  containing 
extracts  from  old  papers.  He  told  Fitz  that  he  "  Avas 
prepared  to  answer  his  questions  by  proofs  for  all  that 
he  said ;  and  in  order  that  he  might  not  think  him 
prejudiced,  he  intended,  whenever  he  could,  to  let  the 
wise  and  good  men  of  the  North,  as  well  as  the  South, 
answer  for  him.  Whatever,  in  the  excitement  of  poli- 
tics, people  may  say,  there  have  been,  and  are  good 
and  true  men  North,  who  deplore  this  fratricidal  war 
as  much  as  we  do,  and  have  done  all  in  their  power  to 
prevent  it ;  this  also,  my  son,  I  want  to  prove  to  you." 
The  General  was  not  a  fire-eater ;  he  was  a  first-honor 
graduate  of  Yale  College,  and  had  travelled  too  much 
to  be  either  narrow  or  sectional  in  his  feelings.  He 
knew  that  no  one  particular  countr;  had  a  monopoly 

54 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  55 

either  of  all  that  was  p^ootl,  or  of  all  that  was  bad.  To 
the  very  last  he  had  hoped  that  war  would  be  avoided  ; 
but  he  did  not  wish  the  craven's  peace ;  and  when  every 
effort  to  secure  our  rights,  honorably,  had  failed,  and 
war  was  forced  upon  us,  he  knew  his  duty,  and,  like  a 
brave  man,  did  it. 

"  The  first  question  I  want  to  ask,  father,  is  this. 
How  are  the  States  united  ?  I  do  not  think  my  ideas 
are  correct.'^ 

"  What  are  they,  my  son  ?  If  you  will  state  them, 
I  will  endeavor  to  put  you  right  where  you  err." 

"  Well,  I  supposed  the  United  States  Government 
was  like  a  church  government,  and  the  different  States 
w^ere  represented  by  the  different  families  composing 
the  congreo^ation.  Joinino^  a  church  does  not  interfere 
with  our  family  relations.  Our  minister  takes  care  of 
the  religious  interests  of  his  people;  but  you  would  not 
permit  him  to  manage  your  family  aifairs,  or  correct 
your  children,  —  these  are  your  reserved  rights ;  and 
his  are  so  distinct,  it  seems  impossible  to  clash.  Con- 
gress (in  a  church)  is,  in  my  mind,  represented  by  the 
vestry;  the  President,  by  our  minister;  and  the  Con- 
stitution by  which  we  are  governed  I  compared  to  the 
Bible,  which  all  Christian  churches  claim  as  their 
guide  and  rule  of  life.  So  I  thought  I  had  the  whole 
thing  mapped  out ;  but,  as  the  machinery  won't  work, 
I  suppose  I  was  mistaken." 

"  You  were  not  mistaken,  my  son,  as  to  how  it  ought 
to  be.  Your  illustration  shows  both  thought  and 
study,  and  is  a  capital  one.     I  will  carry  it  out  in  mv 


56  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIPw. 

attempt  to  explain  to  you  liow  the  harmony  between 
the  States,  and  the  United  States,  has  been  interrupted. 
You  have  been  told  that  when  your  great-grandfather 
built  the  old  stone  church,  and  the  congregation  was 
organized,  the  first  thing  they  did  was  to  adopt  a  con- 
stitution and  draw  out  rules  for  the  government  of  the 
church.  Then  they  called  Mr.  Campbell  as  their  min- 
ister. When  he  was  installed,  he  solemnly  promised 
to  preach  the  gospel  as  contained  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures; and  every  applicant  for  church -membership 
since,  has  had  to  subscribe  to  the  rules  before  they 
were  admitted.  These  rules  required  the  members  to 
live  in  peace  with  each  other,  and  not  meddle  or  inter- 
fere in  each  others'  affairs.  Xow,  suppose  that,  after  a 
while,  some  of  the  quarrelsome,  meddlesome  members, 
(some  of  them  too  who  had  not  contributed  one  dollar 
towards  the  building  of  the  church,)  should  take  it 
upon  themselves  to  regulate  the  family  concerns  of 
their  brethren  and  sisters,  according  to  their  notion  of 
things,  —  how  do  you  think  Mr.  Campbell,  who  was 
recognized  as  the  head  and  director  of  the  affairs  of  the 
church,  ought  to  act?  " 

"  Why,  he  ought  to  discipline  them,  for  violating  the 
rules  they  w^re  pledged  to  keep,  and  compel  them  to 
observe  them.'^ 

"But  suppose  these  ^constitution  breakers,'  who 
■were  in  the  majority,  should  call  a  meeting,  and  decide 
^  not  to  conform  their  conduct  to  the  constitution,  but 
to  change  the  constitution  to  suit  their  conduct,'  declar- 
ing that  they  'had  advanced  in  civilization  since  the 


FITZ-IIUGir    ST.    CLAIK.  57 

Saviour's  time,  and  tlierefore  tliey  wanted  ^^  a  higher 
law  '^  than  His  to  guide  them/  They  wanted  a  Bible  to 
read,  ^Thou  shalt  eovet  thy  nei<^hbor's  man-servant  and 
his  maid-servant/  and  ^  Thou  shalt  steal/  They  also 
wanted  a  Saviour  who  would  condemn  slavery,  for  the 
Ciirist  of  the  Bible  did  not  do  it,  and  in  recognizing  it 
He  condemned  them.    What  could  Mr.  Campbell  do?" 

"  Why,  if  he  had  the  power,  he  ought  to  expel  them ; 
or  compel  them  to  keep  the  constitution  inviolate,  I 
think,  papa." 

^^  But  suppose  he  was  politic  enough  to  go  with  the 
majority,  and,  from  his  pulpit.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath, 
denounce  the  minority,  until  it  became  a  constant 
source  of  annoyance,  —  what  redress  would  they  have, 
think  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  appeal  to  their  sense  of  right,  pnpa,  and  tell 
them  *  our  money  and  efforts  built  this  church  :  you 
found  it  ready  to  your  hand,  and  we  allowed  you  ecpial 
rights  with  ourselves ;  it  is  not  right  for  you,  after  all 
our  liberality,  to  treat  us  so.'  " 

"Suppose  every  appeal  should  be  made  in  vain, — 
what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  if  they  could  not  stay  in  peace  in  the  church, 
they  ought  to  leave,  and  build  another." 

"But  suppose  Mr.  Campbell  and  the  majority  of  his 
vestry  should  say,  ^  You  shall  not  leave  the  church ; 
we  won't  permit  you.  You  shall  come  to  churcli,  and 
hear  yourselves  abused,  whether  you  like  it  or  not ; 
and  you  shall  pay  well  for  it,  too.  You  are  in  the 
minority,  and  ^ve  will  bring  you  here,  in  front  of  fixed 


58  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.   CLAIR. 

bayonets.'  This,  Fitz,  is  exactly  the  position  tlie 
United  States  Government  has  assumed  towards  the 
Soutliern  States.  Does  there  seem  to  be  any  help, 
except  to  oppose  bayonets  with  bayonets  ?  '^ 

"  I  think  not,  papa.  Why  did  not  the  States  re- 
main separate  ?  would  it  not  have  been  a  great  deal 
better  ? '' 

"  As  it  has  turned  out,  it  would  ;  but  you  know, 
'  union  is  strength,'  and  if  we  were  really  united  in 
heart,  as  well  as  territory,  it  would  be  so.  The  States 
certainly  banded  together  for  mutual  benefit;  but  it 
has  been  proved  that,  so  far  as  the  South  is  concerned, 
there  is  neither  peace,  nor  profit,  in  the  alliance;  and, 
therefore,  we  are  anxious  to  dissolve  the  bond.'' 

^'  Why  fight  about  it  then,  sir  ?  We  entered  the 
Union  with  our  own  consent,  and  without  compulsion. 
Can  Ave  not  go  out  in  the  same  way  ?  " 

^'  We  have  the  right,  most  assuredly,  my  son  ;  for 
in  the  Declaration  of  Independence  made  by  the  Col- 
onies in  1776,  they  say,  ^  Whenever  any  form  of  gov- 
ernment becomes  destructive  of  the  ends  for  which  it 
was  established,  it  is  the  right  of  the  people  to  alter  or 
abolish  it,  and  institute  a  new  government;'  moreover, 
the  treaty  signed  by  Great  Britain  calls  the  thirteen 
original  States,  ^free,  sovereign,  and  independent 
States.' " 

"If  we  are  'free,  sovereign,  and  independent,'  then 
of  course  we  can  do  as  we  please,  can  w^e  not  ?  " 

'^  It  appears  not.  Congress  has  usurped  all  our 
rights,  and  will  neither  let  us  remain  peacefully  in  the 
Union,  nor  go  out  of  it." 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIPw.  50 

"Tlicn  how  is  this  a  free  government,  father?  I 
sliould  eall  it  a  despotism.  IIow  does  Congress  man- 
age abont  the  Constitution  ?  '^ 

"Well,  Garrison  says,  'the  Constitution  is  a  cove- 
nant with  death  and  an  agreement  with  hell.'  Others 
say  we  want  none  but  an  anti-slavery  God  and  an 
anti-slavery  Bible;  and  the  Federal  government  has 
become  our  enemy,  seeking  our  destruction.  Our  last 
hope  departed  when  Lincoln  was  elected." 

"Why  do  you  say  that,  father?  What  objection 
have  you  to  Lincoln?" 

"Because  he  represents  a  party  who  are  resolved  to 
deprive  us  of  our  rights,  and  even  our  lives.  The  Con- 
stitution is  abolished,  we  arc  in  the  minority,  and  there 
is  no  redress  in  the  world  for  us.  Lincoln  himself  says, 
'the  government  cannot  exist  half  slave  and  half  free.' 
Governor  Andrews,  one  of  the  Radical  leaders,  in 
his  address  to  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts,  says : 
'  If  emancipation  does  not  come  voluntarily,  it  must 
come  by  the  bloody  process  of  San  Domingo.'  John 
Quincy  Adams  said  he  '  was  ready  for  abolition,  though 
five  hundred  millions  of  Southerners  perished.'  Jim 
Lane,  of  Kansas,  one  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  senators,  said : 
*  I  would  like  to  see  every  white  man  in  South  Caro- 
lina in  hell,  and  the  negroes  inhabiting  their  terri- 
tory.' " 

"  How  do  they  mean  to  free  the  negroes,  father  ? 
Do  they  intend  to  buy  them  back  from  us,  and  then 
liberate  them?" 

"  Not  they,  my  son.  History  tells  us,  '  England 
paid  twenty  million  pounds  to  liberate  four  hundred 


60  FITZ-HUGII    ST.   CLAIR. 

thousand  negroes  in  the  West  Indies/  and  there  are 
more  than  forty  times  that  number  in  the  South  ;  but 
the  Abolitionists  wish  us  to  make  beggars  of  ourselves, 
and  destroy  our  -svhole  agricultural  system,  just  to 
please  a  set  of  miserable  fanatics,  who  would  not  give 
one  copper  cent  to  free  a  thousand,  and  who,  if  they 
were  not  raving  about  the  negro,  Avould  rave  about 
something  else.  No,  indeed  ;  their  philanthroj^y  is  of 
the  most  economical  kind. 

'  Tliey  dragged  the  negro  from  liis  native  slioro, 
Made  him  a  slave,  and  now  liis  fate  dejilore ; 
Sold  him  in  Southern  lands,  and  now,  when  sold, 
Eevile  the  buyers,  hut  retain  the  gold,' 

"  Here  is  a  letter,  written  in  December,  1859,  by  Rev. 
Richard  Fuller,  D.  D.,  of  Beaufort,  South  Carolina,  to 
the  Hon.  Edward  Everett,  of  Massachusetts.  I  will 
read  you  some  extracts  from  it. 

^^  I  am  willing  to  make  great  sacrifices,  even  to 
reduce  my  family  to  comparative  poverty,  if  the  con- 
dition of  my  slaves  would  be  improved  by  it/' 

^'  I  have  publicly  and  privately,  again  and  again, 
made  overtures  to  the  most  wealthy  Abolitionists  — 
those  of  influence  —  and  begged  them,  in  all  sincerity, 
to  be  willing  to  part  with  a  pittance  of  their  wealth  to 
set  on  foot  or  encourage  an  enterprise  looking  to  the 
freedom  of  the  slaves.  But  not  one  single  copper  have 
I  ever  been  able  to  induce  one  of  them  to  contribute." 

"They  contribute  liberally  for  the  purchase  of 
deadly  weapons  to  be  employed  in  secret  crusades 
against  the  South." 

''  They  denounce  the  South  in  the  most  bitter  terms 
for  not  at  once  immolatino;  four  thousand  millions  of 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CI.AIR.  61 


proi)erty,  a  great  deal  of  it  i)iirelui.se(l  fVoiii  tlioin,  and 
all  of  it  guaranteed  to  us  by  the  Constitution  ;  thus 
ruining  ourselves,  and  abandoning  to  weeds  and  bram- 
bles millions  of  fertile  acres,  breaking  up  our  entire 
social  system,  driving  our  servants  from  our  homes  and 
protection, and  making  them  indolent,  discontented  va- 
grants, for  I  conscientiously  believe  the  guardianshij)  of 
a  good  master  is  the  greatest  blessing  to  the  negro." 

"  In  almost  every  family  the  negroes  are  taught  to 
read,  and  some  of  my  servants  write  a  better  hand 
than  I  do." 

"Jesus,  when  upon  earth,  saw  slavery  all  around 
him.  He  said,  *A11  power  in  heaven  and  earth  is 
given  unto  me,'  yet  he  made  no  effort  to  abolish 
slavery,  nor  did  he  once  denounce  it." 

"  You  see,  by  Dr.  Fuller's  letter,  my  son,  that  abo- 
litionism is  the  very  cheapest  kind  of  philanthropy. 

"  At  the  time  of  the  Revolutionary  ^^^lr,  slavery  ex- 
isted in  every  one  of  the  American  colonies ;  and  as 
long  as  it  was  profitable  to  Europeans  and  Americans, 
they  carried  on  the  traffic  in  negroes. 

'^In  1770,  South  Carolina  passed  a  law  forbidding 
the  importation  of  slaves  into  the  State  from  any 
quarter,  but  she  could  not  prevent  it,  for  the  Yankees 
owned  a  great  many  slave-ships,  and  made  immense 
fortunes,  selling  negroes  to  the  South,  while  the  South 
protested  against  the  traffic,  and  insisted  it  should  be 
stopped. 

'*  The  North  excused  the  vile  trade,  apologized  with 
pious  cant  for    it,  and    insisted    ^  it   was  a   blessing.' 
Here  is  an  old  paper,  published  in  1805,  in  Boston. 
Let  me  read  you  an  extract : 
6 


62  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.   CLAIR. 

"  ^  The  operation  of  the  "  slave-trade "  is  a  great 
blessing  to  the  negro,  who,  in  his  own  country,  is  a 
pagan  cannibal,  scarce  distinguished  from  the  brute/ 
You  must  bear  in  mind  this  was  when  they  were 
making  money  by  the  trade.     Now, 

*No  more  allowed  the  negro  to  enslave, 
They  damn  the  master,  and  for  "Freedom"  rave.' 

"Here  is  another  New  England  paper,  date  1807, 
which  says:  *  Slavery  confers  on  the  negro  civiliza- 
tion and  Christianity,  and  is  to  him  a  most  inestimable 
blessing;  for  the  slave  earns  a  better  living,  free  from 
care,  than  the  peasantry  of  any  other  country/  What 
a  pity  Joseph's  brethren  had  not 

'Known  the  modern  art 
To  play  with  skill  the  philanthropic  part ; 
And  bold,  bad  Judah  raved  in  Freedom's  cause, 
While  Levi  cursed  the  foul  Egyptian  laws; 
And  Issachar,  in  speech,  or  long  report, 
Condemned  the  masters  found  in  Pharaoh's  court. 
And  cursed  the  king  who  dared  to  hold 
Enslaved  the  brother  they  had  basely  eeid, 
Proving  that  sins  of  traffic  never  lie 
On  knaves  who  sell,  but  on  the  dupes  who  buy.' 

"  From  1 804  to  1 807,  our  statistics  show  that  there  were 
thirty-nine  thousand  slaves  brought  into  Charleston. 
England  imported  over  19,000  slaves. 
France  "         "       2,000      " 

Boston  "         "      2,000      " 

Rhode  Island  "         "      8,000      " 
Connecticut      "         "  550      " 


FITZ-HUGir    ST.    CLAIR.  G3 

Pennsylvania  imported  over    800  slaves. 
Foreigners  "  "     4,000       '^ 

"  Faets  are  stubborn  things,  and  in  this  case  prove 
that  Charleston  had  but  little  hand  in  bringing  down 
upon  herself  ^  the  curse  of  slavery.' 

^'  From  a  Charleston  paper  of  1806  we  learn  that  the 
^  Rhode  Islanders  were  so  much  afraid  that  they  would 
not  realize  the  very  highest  price  the  auction-block 
would  bring,  that  they  had  twenty-eight  of  their  own 
trusty  natives  iw  their  consignees.' 

'*  In  the  convention  of  1787,  when  the  vote  was 
taken  to  extend  slavery,  Massachusetts,  Connecticut, 
and  New  Hampshire  voted  to  extend  it. 

"  Again,  we  read  in  these  Congressional  documents, 
*  North  and  South  Carolina  protested  against  "  the 
slave  trade,"  and  wanted  the  importation  of  slaves  to 
cease  before  1808;'  while  Connecticut,  and  several 
other  Northern  States,  voted  for  its  extension." 

"  Father,  we  read  in  our  history  to-day  that  the  States 
of  Ohio,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Michigan,  Wiscon&in,  and 
^linnesota  were  all  formed  from  territory  presented  to 
the  United  States  by  Virginia.  AVhy  did  not  A^ir- 
ginia  stipulate  that  these  should  all  be  slave  States?" 

"  Virginia,  the  grand  old  State  that  gave  America 
her  Washington,  gave,  without  any  recompense,  and 
without  making  any  exactions,  territory  enough  to 
form  seven  States.  She  does  not  know  how  to  be 
anything  else  than  generous,  and  could  not  conceive 
of  meanness,  or  she  would  have  hedged  her  gift  by 


64  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

pledges   that  would  have  prevented  such  base  ingrati- 
tude.    But  now  Virginia 

'  Sees  her  own  feather  on  the  fatal  dart, 
And  winged  the  shaft  that  quivers  in  her  heart. 
Keen  are  her  pangs,  but  keener  far  to  feel 
She  nursed  the  pinion  that  impelled  the  steel.' 

"  Xo  sooner  had  these  States  been  settled  than  the 
stormy  petrels  of  Abolitionism  tried  to  have  resolutions 
passed  in  Congress  to  prevent  Virginians,  or  any  other 
Southerners,  taking  their  slaves  into  them,  which  vir- 
tually meant,  we  are  resolved  none  but  Abolitionists 
shall  live  here ;  and  this  mean,  ungrateful  usurpation 
was,  in  fact,  the  first  seed  of  the  present  war,  for  the 
South  became  convinced  by  the  unparalleled  injustice 
that  there  was  no  such  thirig  as  obtaining  her  rights 
in  the  Union.  When^v^er  Congress  met,  petitions 
W'Ould  be  sent  by  all  sorts  of  people,  abusing  the 
South,  and  petitioning  Congress  to  abolish  slavery, 
which  it  had  no  more  right  to  do  than  it  had  to  say 
Monday  should  not  be  washing-day  in  New^  England, 
and  the  Pennsylvania  Quakers  should  wear  dress- 
coats.  The  Southern  members  entreated,  that  these 
insulting  petitions  should  not  be  noticed. 

^^  Hon.  Henry  Clay  said,  '  if  these  cruel  and  wanton 
attacks  upon  tlie  South  are  not  stopped,  the  collision 
of  opinion  will  soon  be  followed  by  the  clash  of  arms.' 

^'Abolition  emissaries,  like  the  plagues  of  Egypt, 
swept  down  upon  the  South,  in  the  disguise  of  preach- 
ers, teachers,  school-marms,  and  peddlers.  They  came 
to  instigate  insurrection,  and  make  the  negroes  dis- 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  65 

eontonteil.  Noo;roes  guilty  of  nuirdcrinj^  their  owners 
acknowledged  upon  the  gallows  that  they  had  been 
incited  by  the  Abolitionists  to  commit  the  bloody 
deeds.  At  last  it  culminated  in  the  ^  John  Brown 
raid/  in  which  that  miserable  fanatic  was  the  tool  of 
the  Radicals  to  accomplish  their  work  of  bloodshed, 
and  draw  the  fire  of  the  South.  Some  of  the  par- 
ticipants in  this  raid  fled  from  justice,  and  found 
shelter  and  concealment  in  Ohio  and  Iowa,  where 
they  were  received  as  ^martyrs,'  and  screened  from 
the  laws  they  had  insulted,  and  put  at  defiance  in 
direct  violation  of  the  Constitution. 

"In  Boston,  minute-guns  were  fired,  and  churches 
were  draped  in  mourning  for  this  midnight  assassin. 

"The  South  sent  commissioners  to  the  Northern 
States,  entreating  them  to  take  into  consideration  the 
conduct  of  the  Abolitionists,  whose  wicked  intermed- 
dling was  rendering  life  at  the  South  unsafe,  and  pre- 
paring the  way  for  a  servile  insurrection.  They 
appealed  to  their  justice  as  men ;  to  their  sympathy  as 
brethren;  to  their  patriotism  as  citizens;  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  common  perils  of  their  common  ancestors; 
to  all  the  better  emotions  of  their  nature,  to  use  their 
influence  to  prevent  the  Abolitionists  from  interfering 
in  the  aflairs  of  the  South.  Daniel  AVebster,  in  a 
speech  in  1851,  said:  ^I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  and 
repeat,  that  if  the  Northern  States  refuse  deliberately 
to  carry  into  eflect  that  part  of  the  Constitution 
which  respects  the  restoration  of  fugitive  slaves,  the 
South  would  no  longer  be  bound  to  keep  the  com- 
G*  K 


66  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

pact,  for  a  bargain  broken  on  one  side  is  broken  on  all 
sides/ 

"  The  North  would  promise  to  interfere,  and  see 
that  we  had  equal  rights  granted  us ;  and  at  four  dif- 
ferent times  entered  into  compromises,  which  in  every 
case  they  violated.  Not  only  did  they  allow  the  na- 
tive Abolitionists  to  harass  and  annoy  us,  but  they  im- 
ported fanatics  to  assist  them.  Thompson,  from  Lon- 
don, said,  in  a  public  speech,  that  '  the  slaves  ought 
to  throw  off  their  bondage  by  the  most  violent  means, 
and  every  slaveholder  ought  to  have  his  throat  cut ; ' 
and  instead  of  shaving  his  head,  and  putting  him  in 
prison,  for  his  unblushing  impudence  in  thus  insulting 
their  own  people  and  attempting  to  incite  a  servile  re- 
bellion, he  was  feted,  applauded,  honored,  and  lionized, 
North,  until  the  London  papers  exclaimed  against 
them,  for  'allowing  such  mischievous  license  to  a  for- 
eigner;' and  further  said,  —  'an  American  pursuing 
any  such  line  of  conduct  in  England  would  be  sent  to 
Botany  Bay;'  and  Henry  Clay  said,  he  Slid  not  know 
what  in  the  world  the  Abolitionists  expected  to  accom- 
plish by  holding  the  South  up  to  the  scorn  and  con- 
tempt of  the  whole  civilized  world.' 

"  Governor  ^larcy,  of  New  York,  afterwards  Secre- 
tary of  War,  appealed  to  his  Legislature,  in  the  most 
forcible  language,  to  put  a  stop  to  the  abolition  move- 
ments. He  said,  slavery  was  not  abolished  in  New 
York  until  1827,  and  the  South  did  not  interfere;  for 
if  any  State,  North  or  South,  had  done  so.  New  York 
would  have  regarded  it  as  an  invasion  of  her  rights, 
and  indignantly  resented  the  interference. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  67 

"  Mr.  Everett,  Governor  of  Massacluisetts,  called  on 
his  Legislature  to  protect  the  South  a<;ainst  the  })csti- 
lent  fanatics.  But  these  appeals  were  all  made  in  vain ; 
and  the  jilanter,  living  with  his  innocent  family  upon 
his  own  plantation,  was  constantly  in  dread  that  some 
of  these  wretches,  who  were  prowling  around,  would  in- 
cite his  slaves  to  insurrection:  all  sense  of  security  was 
gone.  In  Georgia,  Atlanta,  Griffin,  Newnau,  and  War- 
renton,  were  all  fired  at  the  same  time ;  and  now  Lincoln 
is  elected,  the  Abolitionists  will  have  it  all  their  own 
way  un rebuked,  for  he  is  commander-in-chief  of  both 
army  and  navy ;  and  there  is  no  earthly  hope  for  us." 

"  Why  are  they  not  willing  to  give  us  up,  father, 
when  they  pretend  to  feel  so  disgraced  in  a  Union  with 
slaveholders  ?    I  think  it  is  very  strange ;  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  do.  When  Texas  was  admitted  into  the  Union, 
John  Quincy  Adams  and  thirty  Xew  England  senators 
entered  their  protest  against  it,  and  assured  the  Presi- 
dent, '  if  it  was  admitted,  the  New  England  States 
would  secede.'  If  it  was  proper  for  them  to  secede 
from  us  then,  we  surely  have  just  the  same  right  to 
secede  from  them  now,  under  so  much  greater  provo- 
cation. In  their  threat,  then,  they  admitted  what  they 
now  deny,  namely,  that  ^  sovereign  States  have  the  right 
to  resume,  when  they  please,  the  power  delegated  to 
them  by  the  General  Government.' 

"  John  P.  Hale,  the  Republican  senator,  and  candi- 
date for  the  Presidency,  said,  in  a  speech  in  Massachu- 
setts, ^The  South  talks  of  dissolving  the  Union,  if 
Lincoln  is  elected;  but  the  Union  is  more  likely  to  be 


68  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

dissolved  If  he  is  not/  The  Ne^y  York  Tribune,  on 
the  2d  of  March,  1861,  acknowledges  our  right  to 
secede,  and  says  :  '  The  Slave  States  have  a  moral 
right,  if  they  choose,  to  form  an  independent  nation/ 
The  Albany  Evening  Journal,  edited  by  ^Ir.  Weed, 
December  2,  1860,  says:  ^  There  is  imminent  danger 
of  a  dissolution  of  the  Union,  originating  in  the  am- 
bition and  cupidity  of  men  who  desire  a  Southern 
despotism,  and  in  the  fanatic  zeal  of  Northern  Aboli- 
tionists, who  seek  the  emancij^ation  of  the  Southern 
slaves  regardless  of  consequences.' 

"  I  hope  now,  my  son,  with  all  this  proof,  you  are 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  Abolitionists  have  brought 
on  this  war  J  —  for  it  will  be  a  terrible  reckoning,  some 
of  these  days,  and  the  lives  of  thousands  of  innocent 
men  must  be  accounted  for.  At  the  door  of  these  men 
let  the  sin  lie.  We  are  innocent.  I  have  brought  the 
proofs  given  you  for  this  assertion  from  Xorthern  au- 
thority, to  show  you  that  there  are  some  right-thinking 
people  there,  who  deplore,  as  much  as  we  do,  this  fra- 
tricidal war;  but  they  are  in  the  minority,  and  have 
had  to  yield.  We  are  not  fighting  the  whole  Xorth, 
as  many  think :  the  best  men  of  the  Xorth  are  opposed 
to  the  war,  quite  as  much  as  we  are.  In  the  Xew 
York  Herald,  April  7,  1861,  we  read:  ^  With  the 
Lincoln  administration  rests  the  responsibility  of  pre- 
cipitating a  collision  and  the  fearful  evils  of  civil  war ; 
for  !Mr.  Davis,  President  of  the  Southern  Confederacy, 
says,  ^^  There  shall  be  no  collision,  or  blood  shed,  un- 
less Mr.  Lincoln  makes  the  first  demonstration.^' '  " 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  69 

"Did  ho,  father?" 

"He  did,  my  son.  The  South  sent  commissioners 
to  Washington  to  inform  Congress  that  they  had  re- 
sumed the  power  so  h)ng  delegated  to  tliem,  and  in 
future  wouhl  take  charge  of  tlieir  own  affairs,  and 
trouble  the  North  no  more,  and  requested  the  United 
States  Government  to  withdraw  its  troops  from  our 
forts.  Mr.  Seward,  Secretary  of  State,  authorized  Mr. 
Campbell,  member  of  Congress  from  Alabama,  to 
assure  the  Southern  commissioners  that  ^  Fort  Sumter 
would  be  immediately  evacuated.'  Mr.  Campbell  be- 
lieved him,  and  was  very  much  surprised,  therefore,  to 
learn,  a  day  or  two  after,  that  ^  ships  of  war,  steam- 
cutters,  and  three  steam  transports,  had  sailed  South 
from  New  York.'  He  immediately  wrote  to  Mr. 
Seward,  and  asked  him  what  it  all  meant?  Mr. 
Seward,  wishing  to  deceive  the  South,  replied,  falsely, 
^  Faith  as  to  Sumter  fully  kept.  Wait  and  see.'  We 
waited,  and  did  see,  on  the  12th  of  April,  a  fleet  con- 
sisting of  two  sloops-of-war,  one  steam  -  cutter,  and 
three  steam  transports,  off  Charleston  Harbor.  Upon 
the  appearance  of  this  formidable  fleet,  accompanied 
with  the  further  information  that  ^  many  other  and 
larger  vessels  of  war,  attended  by  transports  containing 
troops,  surf-boats,  and  all  the  necessary  means  of  land- 
ing forces,  had  already  sailed  from  Northern  ports,' 
we  knew  we  were  again,  as  we  had  always  been,  vic- 
tims to  the  treachery  of  a  government  which  had 
proved  faithless  to  us  in  every  promise ;  and  this  was 
such  a  palpable  violation  of  the  most  solemn  assurance 


70  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

that  ^110  attack  Wiis  contemplated,'  that  the  military 
authorities  in  Charleston  immediately  telegraphed  the 
state  of  affiiirs  to  the  Confederate  Congress,  then  in 
session  at  Montgomery,  and  asked  for  orders,  which 
came  in  these  memorable  words  :  ^  Demand  the  imme- 
diate surrender  of  the  fort,  and  if  the  demand  is  not 
complied  with,  take  it.'  " 

"  Father,  I  see  tliey  would  have  no  other  alterna- 
tive; but  do  you  think,  if  we  were  to  free  the  negroes, 
they  would  let  us  alone  ?  '^ 

"  No ;  they  would  find  something  else  to  rant  about. 
John  C.  Calhoun,  the  purest,  noblest,  'and  truest 
patriot  that  ever  lived,  said  :  '  Be  assured,  emancipation 
will  not  satisfy  these  fanatics ;  that  gained,  the  next 
etep  will  be  to  raise  the  negro  to  a  social  and  political 
equality  with  the  whites ;  and  that  being  effected,  we 
would  soon  find  the  present  condition  of  the  two  races 
reversed.  They,  and  their  Xorthern  allies,  would  be 
the  masters,  and  we  the  slaves,  then.  The  condition 
of  the  white  race  in  the  British  West  India  Islands,  as 
bad  as  it  is,  would  be  happiness  as  compared  to  ours ; 
for  there  the  mother  country  will  see  to  it  the  su- 
premacy of  the  white  race  is  maintained  ;  but  it  will 
not  be  so  here.'  Mr.  Calhoun  saw  the  storm  approach- 
ing, and  foretold  its  deadly  nature.  All  the  energies 
of  his  mighty  intellect  were  put  forth  to  arrest  its  pro- 
gress, for  he  knew  it  would  end  in  the  destruction  of 
the  Union,  and  the  conviction  that  all  his  labors  were 
in  vain  shortened  his  life.  Xow  all  admit  that  the 
measures  he  proposed,  and  the  theories  he  taught,  were 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIK.  71 

tlie  only  ones  tliat  could  have  saved  the  countrv.  The 
Constitution,  as  our  fathers  gave  it  to  us,  was  as  dear 
to  him  as  his  right  eye,  and  the  incident  that  occurred, 
-when  they  were  trying  to  rescue  liis  statue  from  its 
ocean  bed,  was  as  toucliing  as  it  was  significant.  The 
first  part  of  the  statue  that  appeared  above  the  turbu- 
lent waves  was  his  right  hand,  upholding  the  Consti- 
tution he  had  spent  his  whole  political  life  in  defending. 

'Sublime  the  scene;  and  glorious  the  time, 

Wlien  o'er  the  waves  Calhoun's  right  liand  appeared, 
Upholding  firmly  still,  as  in  his  prime, 
The  Constitution  to  his  soul  endeared.' 

"And  now,  my  son,  you  see  the  whole  argument 
resolves  itself  to  this:  The  Abolitionists  say  to  us, 
'  Consent  to  let  us  take  back  the  negroes  we  sold  you, 
and  place  them  over  you  as  your  masters.  We  will 
give  them  your  land,  and  put  a  tax  on  whatever  else 
you  own,  so  that  they  may  not  have  to  work  too  hard. 
If  you  submit  quietly  and  thankfully  to  this  treatment 
of  our  sable  pets,  we  will  let  you  stay  in  the  Union  in 
peace,  until  we  can  find  something  else  to  run  mad 
over  and  fight  you  about.'  These  terms,  or  war  as  the 
alternative,  is  all  that  is  left  us.  There  is  no  middle 
groimd.     What  do  you  say,  my  boy  ?  '^ 

"  The  dreadful  alternative,  papa,"  said  Fitz,  with 
flashing  eye. 

"  Yes,  my  son,  dishonor  is  worse  than  death.  I 
love  the  Union  and  the  dear  old  flag,  and  would  gladly 
lay  down  my  life  to  preserve  them  as  our  Revolution- 
ary sires  left  them.     I  deeply  regret  we  have  not  re- 


72  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

tained  ^  the  stars  and  stripes '  as  our  national  emblem. 
They  belong  to  us,  for  we  are  fighting  for  the  Consti- 
tution —  the  Abolitionists  against  it.  There  is  not  one 
clause  in  it  they  have  not  violated.  They  despise  it, 
trample  it  under  foot,  and  claim  in  its  stead  a  ^  higher 
law.'  Here,  in  Lincoln's  Proclamation,  we  read  :  ^  It 
is  unanimously  resolved  by  the  Government  of  tlie 
United  States  that  this  war  is  waged,  not  in  the  spirit 
of  conquest  or  subjugation,  nor  for  the  purpose  of  over- 
throwing or  interfering  with  the  rights  or  institutions 
of  the  States ;  but  to  maintain  and  defend  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  Constitution,  and  to  preserve  the  Union, 
with  all  the  dignity,  equality,  and  rights  of  the  several 
States  unimpaired.'  Now  tliere  is  not  one  word  of 
truth  in  this  rigmarole.  I  will  paste  it  in  this  scrap- 
book,  and  time  will  prove  it  a  lie.  They  are  fighting 
for  our  subjugation,  and  to  destroy  our  social  institu- 
tions, against  the  Constitution,  and  to  deprive  us  of 
our  rights  as  sovereign  States.  They  would  not  dare 
tell  the  truth,  and  say,  ^  we  are  fighting  because  we  hate 
the  South.  We  w'ant  to  free  their  negroes,  whom  they 
bought  and  paid  us  for,  and  would  make  them  slaves.' 
Wendell  Phillips  said  he  ^  had  been  trying  to  dissolve 
the  Union  for  nineteen  years,'  and  now  they  pretend 
to  be  fighting  for  ^  the  Union  and  the  Constitution.' 
It  is  false !  Henry  Ward  Beecher  is  honest  enough  to 
say  what  he  thinks,  fearless  of  consequences  always ; 
and  he  says,  ^  The  Constitution  is  the  foundation  of  all 
our  troubles,'  and  the  Avhole  party  believe  with  him." 
^'  Do  you  not  like  the  Palmetto  flag,  father  ?  " 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  73 

^'  Like  it !  Indeed  I  do.  We  cannot  be  too  proud 
of  our  own  Palmetto.  General  Quitman  says,  (writing 
of  the  Mexican  War,)  '  Before  the  smoke  had  eeased  to 
curl  over  the  heads  of  the  brave  victors,  the  Palmetto 
flag,  emblem  of  South  Carolina,  was  seen  floating  over 
the  conquered  walls,  the  very  first  American  flag 
within  the  City  of  Mexico.^  Another  writes :  ^  The 
Palmetto  flag,  borne  by  the  brave  Palmetto  Regiment, 
saved  the  honor  of  the  United  States  Army,  by  sup- 
porting the  retreating  forces  of  two  Northern  States, 
and  but  for  it  General  Scott  never  could  have  dictated 
terms  from  the  Halls  of  the  Montezumas.'  We  need 
not  be  ashamed  of  our  Palmetto,  for  victory  has  always 
crowned  it  with  glory.  But  our  fathers  fought,  bled, 
and,  dying,  gave  us  as  our  national  emblem  the  Star- 
Spangled  Banner,  and  Ave  ought  not  to  give  it  up  to  its 
enemies.  They  have  been  false  to  it,  and  now  are 
making  it  mean  all  that  is  dishonorable,  tyrannical, 
and  oppressive.  The  flag  is  ^a  sentiment'  with  many, 
and  if  we  give  it  up  we  lose  those  friends  of  the  flag 
who  are  our  friends ;  therefore  I  say  we  ought  to  fight 
for  the  flag  we  have  never  dishonored,  and  have  always 
so  bravely  defended,  and  let  its  enemies  seek  another 
ensign." 

^'  Suppose,  father,  the  South  is  defeated,  wdiat  do  you 
think  will  be  the  consequence?'' 

"  If  we  are  subjugated  by  the  party  now  in  power, 
my  son,  our  fate  will  be  a  fearful  one.  Negroes  will 
occupy  our  high  places,  and  ignorance  and  vice  will 
hold  a  sovereign  sway.     In  less  than  four  years  after 


74  FITZ-HUGH 

we  are  subjugated  —  tliat  is  the  word,  for  I  know  my 
men  —  South  Carolina  will  have  ne2:ro  lejjcislators  and 
senators,  and  plantation  darkies  will  be  sent  to  Con- 
gress, and  sit  where  Calhoun,  ]\IcDuffie,  Hugh  S.  Le- 
gare,  and  Hayne  sat.  The  ruin  of  the  country  will 
commence  at  the  South,  but  the  whole  country  will 
feel  the  curse  of  negro  rule,  and  the  miserable  fanatics 
who  are  bringing  this  dreadful  state  of  things  upon  us 
will  bitterly  deplore,  when  it  is  too  late,  that  in  trying 
to  ruin  the  South  they  have  brought  destruction  upon 
the  entire  country.'^ 

"Father,  I  think  you  must  be  mistaken.  I  cannot 
believe  that  the  white  people  of  the  Xorth  would,  for 
one  moment,  consent  to  the  negroes  ruling  any  })art  of 
their  country,  and  making  au  Africa  of  the  United 
States.'' 

"  I  am  prepared  to  believe  almost  anything,  for  I 
did  not  believe  they  would  have  been  allowed  to  force 
this  war  upon  us.  I  thought  they  would  return  to 
reason  before  they  would  see  the  country  deluged  in 
blood.     Now  God  only  knows  what  the  end  will  be." 

"  I  cannot  bear,  dear  father,"  said  Fitz,  in  a  voice 
full  of  emotion,  "  to  have  you  leave  us.  Your  coun- 
try needs  your  services,  I  know,  but  there  is  work  to 
do  out  of  the  army." 

"  Yes,  my  boy,  and  there  arc  old  men,  invalids, 
women,  and  boys  enough  to  do  the  home  work.  The 
only  place  for  brave  men  is  where  the  balls  fall  thick- 
est. You  do  not  surely  wish  your  father  to  go  into  a 
bomb-proof,  do  you  ?  " 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  75 

"  Xo,  sir,"  said  he,  decidedly  ;  "  but  you  know  Mr. 
Gassy  is  a  much  more  violent  Secessionist  than  you 
are;  he  says  he  made  fifteen  speeches  last  month,  and 
he  does  not  intend  going  in  the  army,  I  think." 

'^Xo;  his  patriotism  finds  an  outlet  in  speechifying; 
it  is  frothy,  eifervesces,  and  slops  over.  You  heard 
him  tell  me  yesterday  that  ^the  country  needed  just 
such  men  as  I.'  Why  do  you  suppose  he  thinks  the 
country  needs  me  any  more  than  it  does  him?  He  is 
not  sincere,  for  if  he  felt  as  he  talks  he  could  not  be 
kept  out  of  active  service ;  but  he  leaves 

'  His  country's  side  when  clouds  around  her  thicken  : 
One  of  the  cautious  herd,  who  flies  the  noble  stag  when  stricken.' 

"  Xo  matter  how  the  struggle  ends,  he  will  come  out 
all  right.  I  only  pray  my  poor  family  may  never  be 
dependent  on  the  tender  mercies  of  any  such  men. 
If  you  should  ever  need  help,  my  son,  let  this  be  your 
rule  — '  never  asiv  it  from  the  man  who  deserted  his 
country  in  her  hour  of  need.'  The  soldier's  child  will 
find  no  mercy  from  a  skulk,  depend  on  it. 

"  And  now,  my  son,  I  hope  I  have  vindicated  ray 
course  to  you.  I  want  you  to  treasure  up  every  word 
I  have  said,  for,  if  our  cause  should  be  lost,  you  will 
find  some,  even  at  the  South,  who  will  tell  you  'your 
father  had  better  have  stayed  at  home  and  taken  care 
of  his  family,  than  have  left  you  to  starve.' 

"  If  we  obtain  our  independence,  as  I  trust  in  God 
we  may,  we  will  be  the  happiest  nation  on  the  globe. 
Our  slaves  can  then  be  tauirht  to  read  and  write  with- 


76  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

out  the  fear  of  the  Abolitionists  sending  incendiary- 
books  among  them.  Other  safeguards,  too,  tliat  the 
miserable  fanatics  have  compelled  us  to  build  around 
us,  can  be  removed,  and  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that 
then  our  slaves  will  be  the  happiest  peasantry  in  the 
world.  There  is  a  glorious  future  for  us  if  we  win ; 
but  a  fierce  conflict  must  be  waged  first,  and  with  a 
power  whose  resources  are  boundless.  In  the  contest 
many  of  the  bravest  and  best  in  the  land  will  be  called 
to  lay  their  lives  down  on  ^  freedom's  hungry  altar.' 
I,  too,  my  son,  may  be  called  to  die  in  defence  of  my 
country  —  " 

''  ^ly  dear  fi\ther,  we  could  never,  never  give  you 
up ;  don't,  please  don't  say  another  word,"  said  Fitz, 
while  the  tears  ran  down  his  face. 

"  You  must  not  forget,"  said  General  St.  Clair, 
putting  his  arm  around  his  weeping  son,  "that  you 
have  a  kind  Heavenly  Father,  who  can  do  more  for 
you  than  I  can.  Look  to  Him  in  every  hour  of  need. 
He  will  never  forsake  you,  if  you  put  your  trust  in 
Him.  I  have  always  found  Him  a  very  present  help 
in  every  time  of  trouble.  This  separation  is  as  painful 
to  me  as  it  is  to  you,  and  I  do  not  think  either  of  us 
can  bear  it  in  our  own  strength ;  let  us  take  our  sor- 
rows to  the  mercy-seat,  and  ask  our  i^itying  Saviour  to 
help  us  bear  them." 

They  knelt  and  implored  strength  for  the  terrible 
trials  which  awaited  them,  and  when  General  St.  Clair, 
in  faltering  accents,  said,  "And,  Father,  if  in  Thy 
Providence  I  am  destined  to  return  no  more  to  my 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  77 

family  on  earth,  may  they  meet  me  in  lieaven,  and 
around  Thy  throne  may  we  spend  a  long  eternity, 
unsaddened  by  the  thought  of  parting,"  Fitz  resolved, 
amid  his  passionate  weeping,  that  his  father  should  not 
be  disappointed  in  him.  Long  after  the  General  had 
joined  his  family  in  the  parlor,  he  lay  weeping  on  the 
sofa,  for  he  loved  his  father  with  the  deepest  love,  and 
the  bare  thought  that  the  separation  might  be  final 
had  almost  broken  his  heart. 

AVe   may  not  intrude  upon  the  sanctity  of  the  part- 
ing between  the  General  and  his  family. 

"  A  fearful  sacrifice  you  claim,  O  Freedom, 
From  mortals  in  whose  agonizing  hearts 
Nature  is  strong  as  death." 
7* 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE   DEPARTURE. 


FITZ  drove  with  his  father  to  the  depot,  the  day  he 
left  for  Virginia,  and  long  after  the  cars  had  gone, 
the  poor  boy  stood  looking  after  them ;  and  seeming 
so  forlorn  and  miserable,  he  attracted  the  sympathy  of 
all  who  saw  him. 

The  war  was  very  demoralizing  to  boys.  The  young 
men  were  all  in  the  army,  and  as  the  half-growns  had 
to  take  their  places,  it  made  them  assuming  and  pre- 
cocious. They  had  not  judgment  enough  to  discrim- 
inate between  manishness  and  manliness ;  and  if  they 
could  only  get  a  pipe  or  a  cigar  in  their  mouths,  they 
were  satisfied  they  were  *^all  right." 

The  departure  of  General  St.  Clair  for  the  army 
seemed  to  make  Fitz  a  man  in  an  hour ;  he  became 
quiet  and  thoughtful,  and  devoted  every  spare  moment 
to  his  mother. 

His  father  had  thoroughly  impressed  him  with  the 
terrible  importance  of  the  struggle  in  which  we  were 
engaged,  and  he  hoped,  longedj  worked,  and  prayed 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  79 

for  Its  success,  with  a  fervor  it  would  liave  been  well 
for  many  older  than  he  to  have  emulated. 

lie  was  never  absent  from  the  Society,  and  was  the 
controlling  spirit  in  it.  I  accompanied  him  to  tlie 
academy  one  morninir,  when  they  were  receiviiii; 
j)acka<>:es  to  be  sent  to  the  army.  An  old  man,  with 
a  small  bundle  in  his  hand,  entered  as  we  did.  He 
'^  had  bruno;  a  package  to  send  to  his  boy  in  Lee's 
army,"  he  said.  "  'Twas  only  a  little  tobaccy  and  a 
pipe ;  he  never  smoked  when  he  wur  home,  but  me 
and  the  old  woman  thought  it  would  kinder  help 
make  him  forgit  how  cold  and  hungry  he  is,  lying  in 
tliem  trenches ;  he  is  only  seventeen,  and  the  last  one 
left,  —  the  other  two  wur  both  killed;"  and  wiping 
the  big  tears  away  with  his  rough  coat-sleeve,  he  left 
the  room. 

A  young  girl,  whose  blue  vail  covered  w^hat  we 
knew  was  a  sweet,  bright  face,  handed  in  a  dainty 
little  package,  —  ^^a  book  for  Lieutenant  Cadwallader, 
Company  B,  3d  Regiment  South  Carolina  Volunteers." 
We  strongly  suspected  that  "  book  "  contained  but  one 
page,  —  that  was  illustrated,  however, — and  the  lovely 
eyes  photographed  upon  it,  will  say  more  than  volumes 
could  to  the  dashing  young  lieutenant,  whom  we 
prayed  might  be  spared  to  bless  this  gentle,  blushing 
child-woman  with  his  love  and  protecting  care. 

Here  conies  old  Maum  Dinah,  curtsying,  as  she 
hands  in  her  bundle.  **'  For  my  chile,  missis ;  some 
of  his  mammer's  ginger-cake,  doughnuts,  and  molasses 
candy.     And  do,  my  dear  missis,  tell  him"  —  (poor, 


80  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

simple-hearted  mamma !  she  thonirlit  we  were  going 
in  the  boxes,  I  suppose,)  —  "tell  him  his  old  mammer 
never  forgits  him,  and  can't  sleep  o'  nights  for  thiidv- 
ing  that,  while  she  is  in  her  warm  bed,  he  is  sleeping 
on  the  cold  ground  in  Firginy.  Tell  him  I  prays  for 
him,  day  and  night;  and  he  must  pray  for  hisself,  put 
his  trus'  in  the  Lord,  and  lub  his  Jesus."  And  here 
the  old  woman  quite  broke  down,  and  burying  her 
face  in  her  checked  apron,  cried  aloud. 

"  Alas !  old  Manmer  's  of  the  past : 
On  her  dear  face  we  have  looked  our  last,  — 
Ko  more  o'er  our  sick-beds  we'll  see 
Her  dark  form  bending  tenderly  ; 
Xo  more  with  '  Baby '  in  her  arms, 
Singing,  to  quiet  its  alarms, 
Will  dear  old  Maumer  come  again. 
To  soothe  and  charm  aAvay  our  pain. 
Ah,  little  did  tliey  understand 
"NVho  rent  these  ties  with  cruel  hand." 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  General  St.  Clair  came  home 
on  furlough,  and  spent  ten  days  with  his  family.  It 
was  a  time  of  great  rejoicing,  for  they  had  been  look- 
ing forward  to  it  for  months,  and  saving  up  every 
dainty.  Fitz  had  secured  every  ounce  of  butter  tiiat 
he  could  hear  about ;  Rena  had  knit  the  softest  socks ; 
Harry  had  a  whole  bag  of  chestnuts,  and  a  bushel  of 
big  red  apples;  and  dear  old  grandpa  had  moulded 
some  mvrtle-wax  candles,  which  "  looked  like  sperma- 
ceti, and  burned  like  daylight,"  Clara  said.  And  now 
papa  had  actually  come ;  and  when  they  dropped  the 
shades  in  the  evening,  and  gathered  around  the  fire, 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  81 

they  presented  tlie   most  eliariiiing  picture  of  happy 
hoiiie-lile  that  eould  be  imagined. 

The  first  evening,  Harry  had  a  thousand  questions  to 
ask  about  camp-life,  figliting,  etc. ;  but  Mrs.  St.  Chiir's 
pale,  sad  face,  (when  war  was  the  topic,)  soon  made  her 
husband  adroitly  change  the  subject,  never  to  renew  it 
again. 

The  day  before  General  St.  Clair  left,  while  in  a 
store,  laying  in  family  supplies,  Mr.  Gassy  came  up, 
rubbing  his  hands,  and  apparently  quite  overjoyed  at 
the  meeting.  After  the  greetings  were  over,  he  said  : 
"  I  hear.  General,  you  are  going  to  the  front  in  the 
morning.     Is  it  so?" 

"I  am  going  to  join  my  brigade,  sir,^^  quietly  re- 
plied the  General. 

^^How  I  envy  you.  General,  —  I  feel  like  a  caged 
lion  or  a  chained  war-steed  —  restive,  and  eaofer  for  the 
fray.  I  am  actually  longing  for  the  smell  of  gun- 
powder, sir.^' 

"  You  have  had  ample  opportunity  to  have  satisfied 
that  longing.  Gassy.  The  war  has  been  going  on  over 
a  year,  and  if  you  really  do  intend  doing  anything  for 
3'our  country,  it  is  time  vou  made  a  bes^innino:." 

"  Made  a  beginning.  General  ?  Why,  what  in  the 
world  do  you  mean?  Did  you  not  know  I  was 
drafted?" 

"  Yes,  I  heard  so ;  but  you  did  not  go." 

"No;  but  I  sent  a  substitute,  which  is  equivalent 
to  going  myself.  I  sent  my  first  wife's  son,  by  a 
former  marriage,  right  to  the  front  —  the  front,  I  say, 


82  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

sir,  the  place  where  the  balls  fall  thickest;  and  where 
I  am  panting  to  go,  if  it  was  convenient.  So  now,  my 
dear  General,  I  hope  you  will  not  accuse  me  of  a  want 
of  patriotism  again  ;  for  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  am  spoiling 
with  it." 

"  I  am  glad  to  be  informed  of  the  fact,  Gassy ;  for 
it  is  hard  to  realize  that  a  great  burly  man  like  your- 
self, as  patriotic  too,  as  you  profess  to  be,  can  be  sat- 
isfied out  of  the  army,  at  this  time  of  our  country's 
need.'' 

"  Do  you  call  me  a  hearty  man.  General  ?  Ask  my 
mother;  she  will  tell  you  what  a  time  I  had  teething — " 

^'  But  you  surely  have  got  through  teething,  long 
ago,''  said  the  General,  laughing. 

^'  You  interrupted  me,  sir.  I  was  going  on  to  say 
that  from  a  teething  baby  I  have  enjoyed  bad  health ; 
but  my  whole  soul  is  in  the  cause,  and  I  am  willing  to 
die  for  it,  if  needs  be,  —  and,  if  the  government  would 
onlv  take  my  advice,  they  would  soon  finish  up  the 
littie  job." 

"  Why,  what  would  you  advise  so  efficacious  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  would  say.  Do  not  let  the  sol- 
diers come  home  on  furlough  —  " 

"  And,  pray,  why  w^ould  you  advise  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  it  does  no  good.  They  see  their  families  in 
want,  and  it  makes  them  dissatisfied  —  " 

'^  Families  in  want !  and  what  are  you  scoundrels  at 
home  good  for,  that  you  cannot  keep  the  soldiers'  fam- 
ilies from  starving  ?  You  keep  your  carcasses  out  of 
danger !     If  I  were  President,  I  would  send  you  spec- 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  83 

ulators  to  the  front  for  a  while,  or  billet  a  dozen  of  the 
lliniilies  of  those  who  are  there,  upon  you;  for  it  is 
such  as  you,  that  will  hrin<^  about  the  ruin  of  our 
cause,  if  ruin  conies.  You  are  Neros!  fiddling,  while 
Rome  is  burninij:.''' 

"Xot  much  fiddling;  money  depreciates  so,  I  have  to 
change  my  investments  every  week.  I  am  buying  real 
estate  now ;  do  you  know  of  any  upon  the  market  ?  " 

"'So,  sir;  I  should  be  ashamed  to  inquire,"  said  the 
General,  with  a  look  of  contempt  upon  his  face. 

"  You  are  hard  on  us  home-guards ;  but  we  will 
take  it  from  you,  if  you  will  only,  when  you  go  back, 
raise  the  black  flag,  and  cany  the  war  into  the  North. 
Lee  is  an  old  poke,  and  Stonewall  Jackson  believes 
Svhat  is  to  be  will  be;'  and  so  don't  put  himself  to 
any  trouble  to  hurry  it  up  ;  and  Davis  ain't  a  mite 
better ;  he  would  rather  lose  the  cause  than  go  con- 
trary to  West  Point  tactics.  So  red-tape  will  strangle 
us  after  all,  if  you  soldiers  don't  hurry  up  things." 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Gassy,  that  in  depriving  the 
country  of  such  superior  military  knowledge  you  are 
doing  wrong ?     You  ought  to  be  Secretary  of  War,  sir." 

"  Business,  General,  business ;  there  is  no  harder 
task-master,  and  if  you  fellows  get  killed  off,  we  will 
have  your  families  to  provide  for,  I  suppose." 

''God  forbid,"  said  the  General,  fervently,  ''the 
bare  possibility  of  such  a  fate  for  my  loved  ones  would 
make  me  desert  the  cause,  as  dear  as  it  is  to  my  soul. 
Don't  hint  such  a  terrible  fiite,  Gassy." 

"  You  are  not  very  complimentary;  but  never  mind, 


84  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

all  right  as  it  is,  you  only  hurry  back,  and  don't  come 
home  again  until  Washington  is  in  ashes,  the  coal 
mines  of  Pennsylvania  fired,  and  Lincoln,  the  old 
scoundrel,  hung  by  the  neck  until  he  is  dead,  dead, 
dead,  and  the  devil  take  his  soul." 

"  God  forbid,  or  any  otlier  soul  for  whom  the 
Saviour  died,"  replied  the  General,  gravely. 

^'  Why  don't  you  pitch  in,  Gassy,"  said  a  by-stander, 
''  and  show  the  General  how  it  ought  to  be  done." 

''  I  only  wish  I  could ;  there  would  be  no  more 
prisoners  taken  to  eat  up  our  provisions,  I  tell  you. 
But  farewell.  General ;  tell  your  wife  if  she  needs 
advice  to  send  for  me,"  said  Gassy,  as  he  walked  away. 

"Honor  to  him  who  truly  feels,  whate'er  that  feeling  be, 
Whose  acts  are  like  his  words,  and  both  stamped  with  sincerity. 
Defeat  to  him  who  strives  to  gain  a  nation's  full  accord, 
False  to  his  friends,  false  to  his  fate,  false  to  his  creed  and  Lord." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    BATTLE   OF    MANASSAS. 

ALL  through  the  dark  and  gloomy  winter  after  the 
General's  visit  home,  and  return  to  the  army, 
amid  desolations  and  sufferings,  such  as  it  seemed 
incredible  could  exist  in  America,  our  people  struggled. 
Uncomplainingly  they  endured  every  privation,  hoping 
for  the  day  that  would  bring  peace  and  independence 
to  our  distracted  land.  Sometimes  we  were  exultant 
with  hope,  then  again  upon  the  very  verge  of  despair  ; 
prayer-meetings  were  held  daily,  and  from  every  family 
altar  went  up  the  cry  for  "  peace."  ^ye  knew  we  were 
fighting  the  whole  world,  and  at  fearful  odds,  too,  but 
right  and  justice  were  on  our  side,  and  we  believed  God 
would,  in  his  own  good  time,  interpose  in  our  behalf. 
Heartless  extortioners,  shirking  military  duty,  urged 
Lee  "  on  to  Washington,''  harangued  the  soldiers  as 
to  the  necessity  of  "dying  in  the  last  ditch,"  while 
they  took  from  their  families  a  whole  month's  wages 
for  a  bushel  of  corn.  The  prices  asked  for  provisions 
almost  amounted  to  a  prohibition,  and  Mrs.  St.  Clair's 
8  85 


86  FITZ- HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

health  was  failing  for  want  of  nourishing  food.  Tliey 
seldom  tasted  meat;  corn-hominy  and  sorghum-syrup, 
with  rye  as  a  substitute  for  tea  and  coffee,  was  their 
chief  subsistence. 

As  in  the  time  of  William  and  Mary,  money  had 
merely  a  nominal  value  —  we  could  not  purchase 
provisions  with  it.  A  peck  of  corn,  or  a  piece  of 
bacon,  must  be  paid  for  with  leather  or  yarn  ;  and  even 
after  the  food  was  obtained  and  cooked,  it  was  scarcely 
palatable,  for  salt  was  not  to  be  had  at  any  price.  Old 
smoke-houses  were  torn  down,  and  the  dirt  floors 
boiled  for  the  salt  they  contained.  The  sediment  of 
an  old  mackerel-barrel  was  regarded  as  a  "  treasure- 
trove,"  to  such  straits  were  we  reduced.  Is  it  at  all 
surprising,  that  we  could  not  give  the  Federal  prison- 
ers dessert  every  day?  or  is  it  not  rather  a  miracle 
that  a  starving  people  managed  to  feed  their  enemies 
at  all ? 

The  Southern  ladies,  who,  in  almost  all  the  North- 
ern story-books,  are  represented  as  "thriftless,  lazy 
do-nothings,"  proved  the  unjustness  of  these  charges  by 
manufacturing,  with  their  own  hands,  almost  every- 
thing used  in  their  households  —  even  to  the  shoes  they 
wore,  and  the  lasts  upon  Avhich  they  were  made !  Upon 
hand-looms  they  wove  the  cloth  for  the  family,  and 
no  prettier  hats  have  ever  been  imported  than  those 
plaited  by  our  ladies  from  our  own  Palmetto.  One  of 
our  young  generals  led  to  the  altar  a  fair  bride  whose 
entire  trousseau  was  of  home  manufacture;  for,  although 
the  trained  dress  was  silk  of  the  finest  texture,  the 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  87 

bride  raised  the  worms,  and  spun  and  wove  the  silk 
herself.  History  must  ^i\y  of  the  women  ol'  the  ISouth, 
that 

"They  nobly  bore  their  part, 

Birt  the  proudest  triumph  that  they  won, 

Was  the  victory  of  the  heart." 

Months  had  passed  since  the  General  had  been  home. 
Fitz  looked  sad  and  anxious;  his  grandfather  was 
growing  feeble,  and  his  mother's  subdued,  beautiful, 
patient  face  was  never  now  lighted  by  a  smile. 

Little  baby  May,  who,  like  the  snowdrop,  to  which 
the  children  compared  her,  had  come  into  the  world 
amid  the  darkness  and  gloom  of  the  times,  and  al- 
ways gave  a  smile  for  the  bitter  tears  with  which  her 
pale,  sad  mother  bedewed  her  cheeks,  was  now  two 
months  old,  and  had  never  seen  papa,  although  little 
Clara  insisted  "  the  angel  who  brought  her  down  from 
heaven  must  have  stopped  by  papa's  camp  and  showed 
him  the  baby,  for  how  else  in  the  world  would  he  have 
known  they  had  a  baby,  and  sent  it  'papa's  welcome 
and  a  blessing,'  before  they  had  time  to  send  him  word, 
'  God  had  sent  them  a  little  sister '  ?  "  Harry  agreed 
with  her  fully,  and  loved  his  baby  sister  better,  because 
she  had  seen  papa  last. 

General  St.  Clair  wrote :  "  An  engagement  is  daily 
expected.     That  over,  if  spared,  I  shall  come  home." 

Fitz  counted  to,  and  from  the  arrival  of  the  cars, 
and  if  they  were  delayed  until  midnight,  he  never  left 
the  office  without  his  mail. 

It  was  the  3d  of  September ;  the  second-  battle  of 


88  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

Manassas  had  been  fouglit ;  and  tlie  cars,  now  overdue, 
would  bring  tidings  of  the  result.  The  depot  was 
crowded  with  anxious  fathers  and  mothers,  wivTS  and 
sisters,  who  stood  prayerful  and  agonized,  as  if  await- 
ing an  execution.  Silence  hung,  like  a  fixed  spell,  on 
every  tongue ;  for  from  every  homestead  had  gone  a 
loved  one,  and  the  cars,  they  knew,  were  coming 
freiofhted  with  sorrow  for  some  of  them.  "  Hark  !  the 
loner  whistle."  "  That  means  victorv,"  said  some, 
scarcely  above  their  breath  ;  for  they  knew  that, 

"On  the  wings  of  Victorv 
Death's  shafts  were  ever  sped." 

"  A  glorious  victory ! "  said  the  conductor,  as  the 
cars  came  into  the  depot;  but  he  spoke  in  tones  that 
might  have  announced  a  defeat,  they  were  so  solemn. 

Fitz  stood  speechless,  for  he  could  sing  pa\ins  for 
no  victory  until  assured  his  father  —  whose  precious 
life  had  been  risked  where 

"  Bellowing  batteries  thnndered, 
And  snlph'rons  smoke  rose  high" — 

had  come  safely  through  the  deadly  conflict. 

When  the  train  reached  the  depot,  the  conductor 
handed  the  list  of  killed  and  wounded  to  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Smith,  with  the  request  that  he  would  "  read  it  aloud, 
so  as  to  relieve  the  anxiety  of  the  waiting  multitude  as 
speedily  as  possible.'' 

Dr.  Smith  took  it,  and  read :  ^'  The  long-expected 
battle  has  been  fought,  and  won,  —  but  at  a  terrible 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  89 

cost  to  South  Carolina,  who  mourns  among  the  fallen 
some  of  her  braVest  otiic'crs.  The  gallant  General  St. 
Clair  — "  and  ho  stopped,  trembling  with  emotion, 
and  looked  pityingly  at  Fitz,  who  stood  transfixed, 
wildly  staring  at  him,  with  clasped  hands  and  haggard 
countenance  — 

"Not  killed,  sir?  Oh,  my  God!  not  killed?"  he 
exclaimed,  imploringly. 

" fell,  making  a  desperate  charge,  at  the  head 

of  his  division,  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,"  continued 
the  Doctor. 

Poor  Fitz !  The  conductor,  who  knew  the  agony 
in  store  for  the  son,  whose  beautiful  devotion  he  had 
so  much  admired,  had  Avalked  round,  and  stood  pre- 
pared to  minister  to  him  when  the  blow  fell.  With 
tears  coursing  down  his  own  cheeks,  he  led  the  tearless, 
liaggard,  shivering  boy  to  a  seat.  Deep  grief  is  always 
passionless,  and  not  one  sigh,  groan,  or  tear,  told  the 
s})ectators  that  his  heart  was  breaking. 

Rev.  Mr.  Elliott,  his  mother's  pastor,  came  and  sat 
by  him,  and,  taking  the  cold  hand  in  his  own,  ten- 
derly talked  of  the  dead ;  of  his  beautiful  life ;  his 
glorious  death ;  the  immortality  of  fame  he  had  won ; 
but  he  spoke  in  deaf  ears.  If  he  was  heard,  there  was 
no  intimation  given  of  it,  for  Fitz's  only  consciousness 
was,  that  he  of  whom  they  were  speaking  was  dead ! 
Killed !  Gone  forev^er.  When  Mr.  Elliott  proposed 
that  they  should  go  to  his  mother,  he  got  up  submis- 
sively and  accompanied  him  as  though  he  was  asleep. 
When  they  came  in  sight  of  the  house,  he  looked  up 
8* 


90  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

pitifully  into  Mr.  Elliott's  face  and  said,  "  I  am  too  ill. 
I  cannot  meet  my  mother  now.  Tlie  tidings  you  are 
taking  will  kill  her;  be  merciful/'  and  leaving  Mr. 
Elliott  to  go  into  the  house  alone,  he  walked  into  the 
woods  near  by  and  threw  himself  upon  his  face  on  the 
ground,  trying  to  submit  with  every  heart-string  burst- 
ing. He  had  said  truly,  "  he  was  ill ; "  heart  and 
head  alike  ached.  He  longed  for  death,  and  prayed 
that  it  might  come  to  liis  release.  He  was  so  crushed 
and  helpless  that,  when  he  tried  to  pray,  no  words 
would  come,  only  "  Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy."  At  last 
a  numbness  and  insensibility  mercifully  crept  over 
him.  He  thought  he  w^as  dying,  which,  to  him,  now 
meant  only  going  to  his  father.  Closing  his  eyes,  his 
tortured  nerves  languished,  and  he  was  alike  insensible 
to  sorrow  or  joy  until  late  in  the  evening.  With  con- 
sciousness returned  the  dreary  sense  of  his  terrible 
sorrow  and  loneliness.  How  lonely  he  felt.  ^'  Was 
everybody  gone,  mother?"  Ah,  where  was  his 
mother?  He  had,  in  his  own  great  grief,  forgotten 
hers.     He  must  go  to  her  at  once. 

W^hen  he  entered  her  chamber,  he  looked  like  a 
flower  over  which  a  fierce  storm  had  passed.  Every 
one  in  the  room  wept  as  they  saw  tlie  marks  of  his  suf- 
fering. Walking  u])  to  the  bed,  he  knelt,  and  taking 
the  cold,  white  hand  in  liis  own,  he  said,  '^Only  live, 
mother,  for  our  sakes.  W^e  will  try  and  help  you  bear 
it."  All  through  that  dreadful  night,  although  his 
mother  did  not  recognize  him,  no  entreaties  could  get 
him  from  her  side. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  91 

"We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 

Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  life 

Kept  heaving  to  and  fro. 
So  silently  we  seemed  to  speak. 

So  slowly  moved  about, 
As  tliough  we  had  lent  her  half  our  powers 

To  eke  her  being  out." 

Entirely  delirious,  her  ravings  were  of  "home,  her 
own  beautiful  island  home,"  with  her  husband  ever  at 
her  side;  then  again,  wildly,  she  would  be  inter- 
posing to  keep  from  him  some  threatened  danger ;  and 
once,  perfectly  exhausted,  she  sank  back  upon  her  pil- 
low, clasped  her  hands,  and  with  tears  streaming  from 
her  eyes,  prayed. 

"Speak  low  to  me,  my  Saviour  —  low  and  sweet. 
From  out  the  liallelujahs,  sweet  and  low. 
Lest  I  should  fear  and  fall,  and  miss  Thee  so, 
Who  art  not  missed  by  any  that  entreat." 

In  the  morning  the  doctor  proposed  bringing  her 
baby  to  her,  in  the  hope  that  the  sight  of  it  would 
rouse  her  to  consciousness.  Some  one,  to  still  the 
child's  cries,  during  the  niglit  had  administered  pare- 
goric carelessly,  and  there  was  a  stain  upon  her  little 
apron,  which,  as  soon  as  ^Irs.  St.  Clair  saw,  she 
pointed  at  in  horror,  exclaiming,  "  Blood !  blood ! 
O  God  !  her  father's  blood  ! "  and  fell  into  a  swoon 
so  deep  and  protracted,  we  thought  she  had  left  us 
forever. 

During  her  intervals  of  sanity,  she  would  say,  "  I 


92  FITZ- HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

must  not  die  with  mother's  w.ork  to  do,  doctor ;  my 
children  have  no  one  in  the  world  but  me;  you  must 
not  let  me  die  ;  I  cannot  leave  them  in  this  harsh,  cold 
world.  Oh,  it  would  be  sweet  to  die ;  but  I  promised 
my  husband  to  live  for  his  children  ;  "  and  this  was 
the  feeling  that  triumphed  even  over  death,  and  made 
that  poor,  stricken  mother  turn  and  take  up  life's  heavy 
burden,  when  she  so  longed 

"To  rest  her  aching  heart  beneath  the  Foil, 
And  slumber  hi  her  dreamless  bed,  free  from  all  toil." 

A  "mother's  love;"  Avhat  is  there  like  it  in  all  this 
wide  world  ?  It  can  keep  even  death  at  bay,  and  say 
to  sorrow,  poverty,  and  want,  "for  my  children's  sake" 
I  will  not  shrink  from  you,  but  will  meet  you,  though 
I  have  to  do  it  alone.  And  how  alone,  that  tiuiid, 
shrinking  mother  felt  none  but  her  God  knew.  She 
had  been  so  sustained  and  sheltered  by  the  strong 
right  arm  of  him  upon  whom  she  had  leaned,  but 
who  now  lay 

"beneath  the  sod 
On  pillow  dark  and  gory, 

As  brave  a  man  as  ever  trod 
A  battle-field  of  glory." 

And  she  was  alone,  terribly  alone,  in  this  unpitving 
world. 

In  General  St.  Clair,  his  father  lost  his  only  child, 
the  prop  and  stay  of  his  old  age.  In  poverty,  and 
weakness  extreme,  he  was  left,  and  it  was  a  touching 
sight  to  see  the  tall,  elegant  old  gentleman,  with  bowed 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  93 

head,  and  hands  behind  him,  slowly  walking  tlie  piazza, 
while  his  long,  silvery  hair,  combed  back  from  his 
hisrh,  intellectual  forehead,  curled  to  his  shoulders. 

"  There  is  something  moves  one  strangely 
In  old  ruins  gray  with  years, 
Yet  there's  something  far  more  tender 
In  an  old  face  wet  witli  tears." 

He  was  chastened,  but  resigned.  No  murmur  ever 
escaped  him,  and  if  he  was  sometimes  heard  to  ask, 
^'How  long,  O  God,  how  long?"  he  oftener  said,  "He 
doeth  all  things  well."  "  I  expected  to  lean  on  his 
strong  arm,  but  God  has  ordained  it  otherwise,  and  I 
must  totter  to  the  grave  alone ;  yet,  thank  God,  He 
has  promised  never  to  forsake  me ;  His  rod  and  His 
staif  they  comfort  me.  I  will  join  my  brave  sons 
where  no  enemy  can  part  us.  Until  then  I  will  trust 
my  Heavenly  Father,  for,  after  all,  maybe 

'the  kind  dark  angel,  has  only 
Drawn  them  within  the  secret  shadow  of  his  cloud, 
To  hide  them  from  the  fearful  fate  now  hurrying  up.'" 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE   DEATH    OF    OLD    MR.    ST.    CLAIR. 


FITZ  did  not  return  to  college  after  the  death  of 
his  father,  for  he  had  the  whole  care  of  providing 
for  the  family,  and  comfortless  himself,  had  to  become 
the  comforter  of  all  the  rest. 

He  sought,  and  obtained,  a  situation  in  a  store,  where 
he  received  "a  small  salary  and  was  boarded." 

When  he  went  to  the  table  of  his  employer,  who 
was  the  richest  man  in  the  town,  and  kept  the  best 
table,  the  thought  of  the  little  home  group  sitting 
down  to  corn-bread  and  sorghum,  prevented  his  eating 
a  mouthful.  How  could  he  eat  the  meat  that  would 
give  his  poor,  feeble  uiother  strength  to  nourish  her 
little  teething  babe?  and  the  dear  old  grandfather  now 
met  him  day  by  day  with  a  failing  step,  which  told 
that  he  needed  strengthening  food.  Xo,  he  could  not 
eat  the  food  they  were  perishing  for,  so  he  begged  to 
"  have  his  meals  sent  to  the  store,"  and  as  he  was  a 
great  favorite,  the  request  was  complied  with. 

Every  particle  of  meat,  and  everything  else  at  all 

94 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  95 

dainty,  was  laid  aside  and  carried  liome.  He  ate 
scarcely  enougli  to  keep  him  alive,  and  that  only  of 
the  plainest  fare. 

"  Mrs.  Duncan  must  be  a  very  generous  provider, 
Fitz,  or  else  you  bring  home  all  she  sends,"  said  his 
mother  to  him,  one  day,  as  he  walked  in,  and  laid  his 
basket  upon  the  table,  saying,  as  usual,  "  Here  is  part 
of  my  dinner,  mamma." 

"  Do  I  look  as  if  I  were  starving  ?  "  he  asked. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  looked  at  him,  and  saw  what  she  had 
not  before  observed,  that  his  cheeks  were  sunken  and 
hollow,  and  she  had  in  the  look  unmistakable  evidence 
that  Fitz  was  indeed  starving  himself,  to  feed  his 
flimily.  That  decided  her  course.  A  friend  in  Co- 
lumbia had  been  urging  her  ^'  to  rent  her  home,  move 
down,  and  take  a  situation  in  the  Treasury  Depart- 
ment." She  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  being 
able  to  relieve  Fitz  of  part  of  the  burden  of  their  sup- 
port ;  but  he  had  objected  to  any  such  arrangement, 
insisting  that  he  was  able  to  take  care  of  them.  Mrs. 
St.  Clair  became  convinced  that  it  was  her  duty  to  go 
to  Columbia,  and  began  to  make  preparations  to  leave 
immediately.  Fitz  went  down  to  reconnoitre,  and  the 
reconnoissance  was  so  satisfactory  that  he  came  back  de- 
h'ghted,  having  obtained  a  good  situation  for  himself, 
and  the  assurance  that  the  employment  offered  his 
mother,  was  not  fatiguing,  and  quite  remunerative. 

Upon  his  return,  his  mother  informed  him  that 
while  he  was  away  *^Mr.  Gassy  had  called  and  advised 
her  to  '  sell  her  house,  and  invest  tlie  money  in  bonds' ! " 


96  .  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

'^  What  is  in  the  wind  now,  I  wonder?"  said  Fitz. 
"If  that  sharper  is  investing  in  real  estate,  you  may 
be  sure  it  will  be  safe  to  keep  it.  The  hawk  !  I  wish 
he  would  keep  away  from  our  dove-cote,  for  it  would 
be  just 'like  him  to  take  advantage  of  us.  Don't  tol- 
erate him,  mamma." 

"  He  did  not  come  to  buy,  my  son,  only  to  advise, 
and  he  did  so  in  the  kindest  and  most  interested  man- 
ner. Do  you  know  your  prejudice  against  Mr,  Gassy 
is  terribly  bitter,  and  really  unaccountable  to  me.  But 
here  he  comes." 

"  Only  dropped  in,  in  a  neighborly  way  :  had  n't 
heard  of  Fitz's  arrival :  thought  maybe  Mrs.  St. 
Clair  might  be  needing  some  advice,  which  his  great 
financial  ability  made  him  eminently  capable  of  giving. 
As  Fitz  was  at  home,  wouldn't  stay." 

Of  course  he  would  not,  for  he  knew  Fitz  under- 
stood him  thoroughly,  and  he  shrank  from  his  clear, 
truthful  eye  like  a  whipped  spaniel,  although  it  was 
only  a  boy's  eye  that  looked  him  through. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  rented  her  house  most  advantageously 
to  a  farmer,  who  agreed  to  pay  the  rent  in  provisions, 
which  at  that  time  money  could  not  buy,  and  began 
packing  for  the  move. 

It  was  Sabbath,  and  the  last  one  they  would  spend 
in  that  town.  The  children  attended  preaching  with 
their  grandfather,  and  the  dear  old  man  had  enjoyed 
the  services.  In  the  evening  he  conducted  family 
worship,  read  with  great  solemnity  the  ninetieth  psalm, 
and  joined  in  singing  that  beautiful  hymn, 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  97 

"Oil,  Thou  who  liearest  the  mourner's  prayer, 
How  dark  this  world  would  be, 
IJ^  when  deceived  and  injured  here. 
We  could  not  fly  to  Thee." 

After  the  hymn  he  prayed  earnestly  and  fervently 
for  peace,  and  that  the  cry  of  the  widows  and  orphans, 
all  over  the  land,  might  reach  high  heaven,  and  thfe 
dreadful  bloodshed  be  stopped.  He  kissed  them  all 
good-night,  appearing  quite  as  well  as  usual,  and 
retired. 

In  the  morning,  when  they  met  at  breakfast,  grandpa 
did  not  come.  Fitz  went  to  inquire  if  he  was  sick, 
and  found  him  dead  !  xllone  in  the  night,  apparently 
without  a  struggle,  he  had  met  and  conquered  the 
King  of  Terrors,  and  now  lay  sweetly  asleep  in  Jesus. 

"  Two  hands  upon  the  breast  — 

Labor  was  done ; 
Two  pale  feet,  crossed  in  rest  — 

The  race  was  won ; 
Two  eyes  in  Death's  sleep  shut, 

And  all  tears  cease ; 
Two  lips,  where  grief  is  mute  — 

Anger  at  peace." 

He  had  gone  to  join  those  whom  he  had  loved  and 
mourned,  in  the  ^^  land  of  peace  '^  for  which  he  sighed ; 
and  when 

"  We  looked  upon  his  cold,  dead  face, 

We  felt  'twas  wrong  to  weep; 
For  we  had  known  his  suffering, 

And  knew  how  sweet  his  sleep." 
9  G 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SPECULATORS. 

FITZ  preceded  the  family  to  Columbia  a  few 
weeks,  in  order  to  prepare  for  their  reception. 
To  his  great  sorrow,  when  his  mother  came,  she  in- 
formed him  that  '^she  had  sold  their  house  to  Mr. 
Gassy.'^ 

"  O  mother,  dear  mother,  how  could  you  fall  into 
the  trap  of  that  wily  speculator  ?  Surely  I  deserved 
your  confidence ;  you  have  made  a  terrible  mistake, 
and  we  will  have  to  suifer  for  it.  I  really  thought 
you  gave  me  credit  for  common  sense.'' 

^'My  son,  you  are  hasty  in  your  judgment;  listen 
to  the  facts,  and  do  not  let  prejudice  make  you  un- 
reasonable. Mr.  Gassy  had  money  sent  him  from 
Richmond  to  invest,  and  really  meant  to  do  us  all  a 
service  by  purchasing  our  house;  he  argued,  as  we 
were  going  from  the  up-country,  probably  never  to 
return,  the  property  would  be  let  go  to  decay,  for 
no  one  ever  takes  care  of  a  hired  house,  so  my  best 

plan   would    be   to  sell   in   S and   jiurchase   in 

Columbia.'^ 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  99 

"  From  whom,  pray  ?  I  hope  you  will  insist  on  his 
coming  down  and  buying  property  for  you,  the 
scoundrel." 

"  I  am  sorry,  my  dear  boy,  to  see  you  so  angry  and 
unreasonable;  has  Confederate  money  depreciated  so 
as  to  be  utterly  worthless  ?  " 

^'  It  has,  mother,  and  that  disinterested  philanthropist 
knew  it.  But  here  is  a  verse  in  this  very  paper  about 
his  tribe ;  read  it,  I  have  not  the  patience  to  do  it  for 
you."     Mrs.  St.  Clair  read  : 

"  The  speculator,  what  cares  he  for  the  tears  that  fall, 
Or  the  hearts  that  he  shivers  and  breaks; 
His  ear  is  deaf  to  the  orphan's  call, 

While  there's  a  dime  or  a  cent  to  make." 

'^  That 's  a  picture  of  your  patriotic,  disinterested 
Gassy,"  said  Fitz,  starting  to  leave  the  room,  with  a 
fiice  flushed  with  anger  that  he  could  not  control. 

^^Stop,  Fitz,"  said  his  mother,  in  a  calm,  but  de- 
cided tone;  ^'do  not  let  your  temper  make  you  disre- 
spectful to  your  mother,  my  son.  When  you  are 
2)repared  to  hear  me,  I  will  go  into  details,  and  I  am 
sure  I  can  satisfy  you  that  the  transaction  is  for  the 
best." 

Fitz  was  silent,  for  he  knew  the  man  with  whom  it 
was  made,  better  than  his  mother  did ;  he  remembered 
his  father's  conversation  with  him  the  day  he  urged 
the  General  "  to  the  front,"  and  in  his  very  heart  he 
despised  and  loathed  him. 

"  I  told  him,"  Mrs.  St.  Clair  went  on  to  say,  "  that 
you  were  opposed  to  the  sale.     He  said  to  a  stranger 


100  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR, 

you  might  be,  but  he  wanted  us  to  understand  tliat  it 
was  not  a  mere  business  transaction,  but  a  compact 
between  friends,  to  be  rectified  if  it  did  not  turn  out 
advantageous  to  us,  for  lie  was  consulting  our  interest 
solely  and  entirely." 

"Did  he  put  that  fine  speech  in  writing?"  said 
Fitz,  not  in  the  least  mollified  by  it. 

"  No,  Fitz ;  but  a  gentleman  would  regard  sacredly 
a  promise  ;  would  he  not  ?  " 

"Certainly,  a  gentleman  would;  but  that  canting 
hypocrite  is  not  a  gentleman.  Mother,  I  wonder  at  a 
lady  of  your  sense  being  deceived  by  him;  he  has 
swindled  us  out  of  our  home,  and  did  it  knowingly 
and  designedly,  and  is  now  chuckling  over  the  sharp 
trick.     You  will  find  out  I  am  right." 

"  But  what  do  you  make  of  this  paper,  which  !Mr. 
Gassy  fortified  himself  with  when  he  came  the  last 
time?  Here  is  an  appeal  from  the  authorities  at 
Richmond,  calling  upon  all  patriots  and  lovers  of  their 
country  to  ^invest  in  bonds.'  Would  they  advise  this, 
my  son,  if  they  knew  that  to  invest  thus  would  be 
ruin  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  sour,  mother,  and  I  tell  you  the  truth. 
I  would  rather  form  my  opinion  from  what  these 
advisers  are  doing  themselves,  than  by  what  they 
are  advising  others  to  do.  Some  of  them  have  their 
agents  in  every  city,  town,  and  village  in  the  South, 
buying  up  the  estates  they  are  advising  the  widows 
and  orphans  to  sell,  and  after  the  war,  when  the 
soldiers'   families   will    be  in   poor-houses   and   asy- 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR 


101 


lums,  they  will  be  revelling  in  tlieir  ill-o^otten  o^ains. 
But  let  us  drop  this  subject,  or  I  shall  forget  myself 
again.  I  thank  God  there  is  a  tribunal  where  the 
Judge  of  the  widow  Avill  reverse  the  decisions  of  earth. 
You  will  get  justice  then,  for  the  sentence  on  ^  those 
who  devour  widows'  houses '  has  already  been  passed. 
Tliank  God  for  a  judgment -day  and  a  righteous 
Judge." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   BURNING   OF   COLUMBIA. 

"jV/TRS.  ST.  CLAIR  had  just  settled  in  Columbia 
-^^  when  Sherman  bes^an  his  raid  throuirh  Georo:ia. 
Rumors  that  his  army  were  coming  to  Columbia  were 
current;  but  week  after  week  passed,  and  he  did  not 
come.     Mrs.  St.  Clair  did  not  believe  he  w^ould. 

She  was  a  Virginian,  the  daughter  of  an  officer  in 
the  United  States  army,  who  died  just  before  the  war. 
She  loved  the  old  flag,  under  which  her  father  had  so 
often  and  so  bravely  fought;  and  always  heard  with 
sorrow,  reflections  upon  the  officers  with  whom  she  had 
been  so  intimately  associated. 

The  bare  suggestion  that  the  United  States  army, 
officered  by  graduates  of  West  Point,  —  her  father's 
Alma  Mater,  —  would  attack  a  town  from  which  all  the 
men  were  absent,  and  filled  with  defenceless  women 
and  children,  would  be  immediately  repelled  by  her 
with  impatient  rebuke.  "There  were  gentlemen  in 
the  army  up  to  the  war,"  she  would  argue.  "  The 
Southerners  only  left  —  w^hat  has  become  of  the 
others?'' 

102 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  103 

"General  McClelkm,  your  friend,  has  no  command 
now,"  said  her  opponent. 

"  But  I  liave  other  friends  in  the  United  States 
army,  as  brave  and  as  chivalric  as  I  know  General 
McClelkm  to  be." 

"VVell,  I  hope  you  may  not  meet  them  soon," 
laughingly  responded  Madam  Secesh,  "  for,  I  tell  you 
plainly,  I  would  as  soon  meet  banditti." 

After  the  lady  left,  Mrs.  St.  Clair  said  :  "  You  see, 
Fitz,  how  unfair  and  rash  prejudice  can  make  people: 
as  though  my  dear,  gallant  father  had  belonged  to  a 
band  of  bandits  !  If  the  mayor  does  his  duty,  and  the 
town  of  Columbia  is  surrendered  to  the  officer  in  com- 
mand of  the  United  States  forces,  I  shall  feel  as  safe  as 
if  we  were  under  the  command  of  the  gallant  Beaure- 
gard himself,  who  was  educated  where  chivalry  is 
taught ;  and  so  were  the  United  States  navy  and  army 
officers.  The  fact  is,  I  would  lose  faith  in  the  justice 
of  our  cause,  almost  as  soon  as  I  would  in  the  honor 
and  chivalry  of  a  West  Point  graduate." 

'^  I  hope  you  may  have  no  reason  to  change  your 
opinion,"  said  Fitz,  "and  I  only  wish  I  shared  it, 
mamma." 

Sherman's  well-equipped  army  of  seventy-five  thou- 
sand, was  to  be  opposed  by  four  thousand  half-starved 
Confederates,  with  wardrobes  almost  in  as  sad  a  plight 
as  Falstaff' s  regiment. 

Our  officers  knew  that  the  defencelessness  of  the  city 
would  not  protect  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  give  greater 
license  to  our  invaders.     Consequently,  they  tried  to 


104  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

gain  for  the  poor  women  as  long  a  time  as  possible  to 
escape  with  their  little  ones  out  of  the  doomed  city. 

The  brave  Wheeler,  with  only  s\:^  hundred  men, 
defended  successfully  the  line  of  works  on  the  north 
side  of  Congaree  Creek,  and  kept  the  enemy  from 
crossing  until  four  o'clock. 

On  the  IGth  of  February,  the  shelling  of  the  city 
commenced.  No  warning  had  been  given,  or  any  de- 
mand made  for  its  surrender. 

^'  What  do  you  think  of  our  honorable  foe,  now  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Secesh  of  Mrs.  St.  Clair. 

"  I  do  not  understand  it ;  there  must  be  some  misun- 
derstanding, so  I  will  hope  for  the  best,'^  she  replied. 

The  bursting  of  shells  in  houses  filled  with  little 
children,  caused  a  terrible  panic.  Thousands  of  women, 
decrepid  old  men,  and  helpless  children,  with  bundles  of 
clothing  or  baskets  of  food,  were  flying  wildly  in  every 
direction,  not  knowing  where  to  go  for  safety  or  shel- 
ter. The  enemy  were  at  the  gates ;  the  sound  of  can- 
non was  heard ;  shells  were  exploding  in  every  street, 
and  tumult  and  excitement  reigned.  It  was  pande- 
monium —  to  be  changed  in  a  few  hours  to  hell. 

Little  May  had  been  quite  ill,  and  the  doctor 
guarded  them  against  change  or  excitement  for  her. 
"  She  must  be  kept  perfectly  quiet,"  was  his  charge,  on 
leaving.  So  they  resolved  to  remain,  and  brave  danger 
for  her  sake. 

She  was  a  darling  little  pet,  and  as  timid  as  a  bird. 
Whenever  a  shell  exploded,  she  would  shut  tight  her 
soft  blue  eyes,  and  say,  "  Bad !  May  tell  papa." 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  105 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  lon<j^ed  to  hear  of  the  surrender  of 
the  city,  for  she  still  clung  to  the  insane  idea  that 
it  meant  safety  and  protection.  Mayor  Goodwyn, 
knowing  her  peculiar  situation  and  great  anxiety, 
stopped  by  on  the  17th,  and  informed  her  that  ''an 
lionorable  surrender  had  been  made,  and  accepted; 
and  that  Colonel  Stone,  of  the  Federal  army,  had  sol- 
emnly assured  him  that  '  the  inhabitants  of  the  city 
might  rest  assured  they  would  be  as  safe  in  Federal  as 
in  Confederate  hands,  for  not  one  finger's-breadth  of 
the  city  should  be  harmed.'  '^ 

"  I  knew  they  would  respect  the  laws  of  civilized 
warfare,"  she  said  exultingly.  "  The  bare  idea  of  sol- 
diers fighting  women  and  children,  under  the  United 
States  flag,  was  preposterous  !  I  am  glad  the  agony  is 
over ;  I  seem  to  feel  as  if  my  father's  spirit  was  near  me, 
bidding  me  trust;"  and  taking  her  poor  sick  baby  in 
her  lap,  she  was  singing, 

"Hush,  my  babe,  lie  still  and  slumber, 
Holy  angels  guard  thy  bed,"  — 

when  a  squad  of  soldiers  came  into  the  room,  and  "  de- 
manded all  the  valuables  she  had  in  her  possession." 

She  told  them  she  was  a  poor  widow  —  a  refugee 
from  the  coast,  and  that  her  valuables  had  all  been  left 
in  their  island-home,  during  the  attack  on  Port  Royal, 
in  1861. 

"  Give  me  that  heavy  gold  ring ! "  said  one  of  the 
savages,  seizing  her  hand,  and  trying  to  remove  her 
wedding-ring.     "  I  had  n't  money  enough   to   buy  a 


106  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

ring  wlien  I  was  noosed ;  but  I  always  knew  my  time 
would  come." 

"It  is  my  wedding-ring/'  pleaded  Mrs.  St.  Clair; 
"  and  my  husband  is  dead."  Fitz  sprang  like  a  tiger ;  but 
his  mother  stood  between  him  and  the  cowardly  ruffian 
who  wiis  insulting  her.  "  You  will  not  throw  away 
your  life,  Fitz  ;  I  need  you,  my  son."  Then  dropping 
the  ring  from  her  poor  attenuated  finger  into  the  hand 
of  the  brute  who  was  still  clutching  her,  she  turned,  and 
said  to  an  officer,  —  one  of  the  gang,  —  "I  am  the 
daughter  of  a  United  States  officer.  There,"  pointing 
to  her  father's  commission,  whidi  hung  framed  over 
the  mantel,  "  is  what  ought  to  guarantee  me  protec- 
tion, if  my  sex  and  my  poor,  dying  babe  do  not." 

"Phew!  "said  the  epauletted  savage,  running  his 
bayonet  through  the  commission.  "  Yankee  commis- 
sions ain't  worth  much  down  in  this  latitude,  so  I  guess 
I  '11  burn  this,"  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he 
thrust  it  into  the  fire. 

"  And  I  am  more  'n  obliged  for  this  horse- blanket, 
maum,"  said  another,  snatching  the  beautiful  Afghan 
— relic  of  better  days — in  which  the  baby  was  wrapped. 

"Bad!"  said  the  poor  little  baby;  and  the  blue  eyes 
closed  tightly,  as  if  to  shut  out  the  sight. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  replaced  it  with  a  shawl,  which  was 
immediately  appropriated  by  another  one  of  the  rogues, 
who  said:  "I've  no  scruples  about  taking  your  shawl, 
you  see,  marm  ;  because  I  know  you  will  find  it  hot 
enough  to  do  without  it  to-night.  I  tell  you,  two 
hours  after  Sherman's  sky-rockets  go  uj),  there  will  be 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  107 

notliiiif]:  tliis  side  of  the  burning  pit  that  will  at  all 
compare  with  the  fireworks  you  '11  see." 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  was  in  despair.  What  to  do  she  knew 
not.  It  was  too  late  for  her  to  leave  the  city  now. 
Little  May's  cheeks  were  crimson  with  fever,  and  her 
head  tossed  restlessly  from  side  to  side.  "Ma,  ma, 
take,"  she  moaned  with  almost  every  breath. 

*'  The  rockets  have  gone  up,  and  the  whole  town  is 
being  set  on  fire ! "  said  a  neighbor,  rushing  in. 

"Rena  has  fainted  !  "  exclaimed  Fitz. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  dear  mamma,"  said  Clara ;  "  I  ith 
little,  do  hug  me  to  you ;  I  so  faid  of  the  Yankeeth.  I 
wish  Jesus  would  come  and  take  me  in  his  arms.  I 
want  to  go  to  sleep." 

That  gave  Harry  an  idea,  and  down  he  got  upon  his 
knees,  and  prayed :  "  Do,  my  dear  Jesus,  send  an 
angel  down  to  help  us ;  that  one  you  sent  in  the  fiery 
furnace,  to  help  them  other  little  children ;  and  don't 
let  the  Yankees  burn  us  up." 

"  Bubba  Hally,"  said  Clara,  "  why  don't  you  not  beg 
him  to  tliend  our  own  dear  papa;  he  ith  the  bethest;" 
and  down  she  knelt  at  her  brother's  side ;  and,  looking 
up  to  heaven,  with  her  baby  hands  clasped,  she  prayed : 
"  O  do,  my  dear  Jethuth,  thend  our  dear  papa  to  help 
uth,  for  the  Yankeeth  ith  going  to  kill  uth,  and  burn 
uth  up,  and  we's  dot  not  a  thoul  to  help  uth.'^ 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and 
then,  in  piteous  tones,  said  :  "  Oh,  my  God,  why  hast 
thou  forsaken  me  ?  " 

"There's  some  Yankee  soldiers  out  there,  a-setting 
fire  to  the  house,  ma'am,"  said  the  cook,  running  in. 


108  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"Let  me  go/'  said  Mrs.  St.  Clair  to  Fitz,  at  the 
same  time  putting  the  baby  in  his  arras.  She  could 
not  trust  her  impulsive,  high-strung  boy  to  the  temp- 
tation he  would  feel  to  resent  the  cruel  outrage. 

AVhen  she  went  out,  she  found  the  fiends  saturating 
cotton  in  some  combustible  mixture,  and  smearing  it 
over  all  the  woodwork.  She  told  them  ^^  how  ill  her 
baby  was,  and  pleaded  with  them  to  leave  her  a  shelter 
over  its  head  —  if  only  until  morning ; "  but  they  were 
bent  on  accomplishing  their  fiendish  work.  Again,  and 
again  did  the  children  and  servant  extinguish  the  fire ; 
but  at  length  it  was  beyond  extinguishing  —  the  whole 
dwelling  was  in  a  blaze,  and  they  barely  escaped  with 
their  lives. 

The  icy  coldness  of  little  May's  breath,  and  the  rest- 
less tossing  of  her  head,  warned  Fitz  that  the  poor, 
tortured  little  lamb  would  soon  be  in  the  arms  of  the 
heavenly  Shepherd.  "  May  tay  home,  and  do  seepy," 
she  pleaded,  as  they  were  carrying  her  out  of  the  blazing 
house,  at  midnight,  in  the  month  of  February. 

Main  Street,  from  its  northern  to  its  southern  ex- 
tremity, was  a  solid  wall  of  fire;  the  wind  was  blowing 
a  hurricane,  and  tossed  the  lurid  flames  hundreds  of 
feet  into  the  air,  while 

"  Women's  shrieks  and  children's  cries 
Went  pealing  up  the  ensanguined  skies." 

The  falling  ruins,  with  thunderous  sound,  shook  the 
ground.  Drunken  soldiers,  swearing  wild,  blasphe- 
mous oaths,  would  snatch  the  bundles  from  the  poor 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIU.  100 

mothers,  who  were  trying  to  save  a  change  of  clothing 
for  their  chikh'en,  and  toss  them  into  tlie  ilames.  At 
one  oVlock  the  town-clock  sounded  its  own  death-kncll, 
and  fell,  with  deafening  crash,  from  the  burning  spire. 
A  long  and  mournful  procession  of  pale  nuns,  and 
trembling  school-girls,  led  by  their  stately,  dignified 
mother-superior,  were  leaving  the  burning  Ursuline  to 
seek  shelter  in  the  graveyard  :  their  prayer  for  their 
convent  had  been  made  in  vain,  and  they  hurried  from 
the  living  to  the  dead. 

In  the  park,  on  the  cold  ground,  wrapped  in  the 
cloak  of  a  young  Federal  ofticer  from  the  West,  is  the 
corpse  of  a  child-mother  and  her  babe,  which  was  born 
in  the  street  at  midnight.  Your  wild  cry,  loving, 
gentle  Eva,  "  Is  there  a  God  ?"  has  been  answered;  the 
everlasting  arms  are  around  you,  and  you  are  safe  from 
your  tormentors  forever.  But  who  will  tell  your  gal- 
lant husband  the  horrible  fate  of  his  beautiful  bride  ? 
God  pity  him ! 

Fitz  tried  to  reach  Sydney  Park,  but  fire-balls,  from 
the  heights,  were  thrown  so  incessantly  among  the 
crowd,  he  was  afraid  to  go  farther;  and  had  just  stopped 
to  think  where  there  was  a  probability  of  finding  a  safe 
retreat,  when  a  ruffian  soldier  snatched  at  little  May, 
and  he  had  to  yield  her,  to  prevent  her  limbs  be- 
ing torn  asunder.  When  he  took  her  back,  the  little 
head  fell  languidly  upon  his  shoulders,  the  spasmed 
arms  were  stretched  out,  and  the  dying  lips  uttered, 
'^papa."  Then  the  murdered  father  and  child,  met 
for  the  first  time. 
10 


110  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  When  will  this  dreadful  work  end  ? ''  asked  Fitz 
of  an  officer. 

^'  At  sunrise  you  will  hear  the  bugle ;  the  men  have 
license  until  then/'  he  replied,  and  he  asked,  "  Is  it 
not  a  grand,  glorious  sight?  I  would  not  have  missed 
it  for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

"  If  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  you  will  wish,  at  the 
Judgment,  that  you  had,"  said  a  poor,  old  lady,  wdio 
Avas  sitting  on  a  bundle  of  clothes,  trembling  with  age 
and  exhaustion. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  old  grandma  ?  then  I  '11  make 
the  most  of  the  fun  while  it  lasts,"  said  he,  pulling  her 
bundle  from  under  her,  and  leaving  her  lying  on  the 
ground. 

Before  the  bugle  sounded  to  call  in  the  soldiers 
from  their  hellish  work.  South  Carolina's  beautiful 
capital,  the  garden  city  of  the  State,  was  a  mass  of 
smoking  ruins.  No  pencil  can  picture,  or  pen  portray, 
the  horrors  of  that  dreadful  night.  *'  I  have  spent 
one  night  in  hell,"  wrote  a  Xew  York  lady  to  her 
mother,  "and  if  the  torments  of  the  lost  spirits  at  all 
compare  with  those  inflicted  by  human  fiends,  God  in 
heaven  pity  us." 

]\Irs.  Downing,  a  gifted  poetess  of  the  old  Xorth 
State,  describes  the  dreadful  scenes  of  that  night  with 
such  a  graphic  pen,  that  I  want  everybody  to  read 
them,  and  for  this  reason  I  here  quote  them  : 

"  I  saAv 
Tlie  ruffian  soldiers  forward  spring, 
And  heard  the  defenceless  city  ring 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  HI 

"With  cries  and  curses,  prayers  and  groans, 

And  crashing  roofs  and  falling  stones, 

And  soldiers'  yells  of  wild  desire, 

Commingled  in  a  sea  of  fire, 

Which  hissed  and  blazed,  and  raged  and  roared, 

As  fast  its  molten  torrent  poured 

On  churdi  and  convent,  store  and  street, 

In  billows  of  devouring  heat. 

Our  guardian  angels  fled  away, — 

Far  from  the  doom  they  could  not  stay,  — 

While  powers  of  darkness  burst  tlieir  chain, 

And  sin  and  Satan  reigned  again ; 

Meanwhile  they  pilfered,  warriors  bold, 

All  that  was  precious :  gems  and  gold. 

And  priceless  pictures,  books  as  rare, — 

Tore  jewels  out  of  woman's  ear, 

Snatched  wedding-rings  from  fingers  slight. 

Took  silken  robes  and  diamonds  bright,  — 

Nay,  stole,  as  many  a   mother  knows. 

Even  new-born  babies'  tiny  clothes. 

We  heard  the  white-veiled  novice  shriek 
Within  her  convent  cell,  then  seek 
The  Virgin's  aid  with  stifled  breath. 
To  'scape  from  .insult  worse  than  death. 
We  saw  old  men,  w^ho  frantic  stood. 
Their  snowy  locks  besmeared  with  blood. 
Striving  to  form  a  shelter  frail 
For  some  death-stricken  infant  pale. 
Beat  down,  and  trampled  by  the  throng, 
With  mocking  curse  and  obscene  song. 

And  one  we  saw,  who  late  had  been, 
As  pure  as  dew-drops,  when  their  sheen 
Bedecks  the  rose-bud's  pearly  brow 
With  crystalline  perfection  —  now 
A  gibbering  idiot,  mouthed  and  smiled. 
And  chattered  like  a  little  child. 
Her  brave  boy-brotlier  near  her  lay. 
Gasping  his  murdered  life  away. 


112  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

We  saw  the  priest  struck  to  tlie  ground 
Beside  the  altar,  wliile  around 
The  ribald  soldiers,  pressing  up, 
Filled  high  the  eucharistic  cup 
With  sacramental  ■\vine,  then  drained, 
With  hands  in  human  blood  all  stained." 

Such  was  tlie  burning  of  Columl)lii  in  tlie  nineteenth 
century.  It  will  aji])car  like  a  terrible  tragical  ro- 
mance fifty  years  hence,  and  even  now  at  the  North 
many  are  credulous  and  will  think  we  have  drawn  on 
imagination  for  tlie  horrible  facts  we  have  stated. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    BURIAL   OF   BABY   MAY. 

I  AM  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  saith  the  Lord: 
he  that  believeth  in  me,  tliough  he  were  dead,  yet 
shall  he  live.  And  whoever  believeth  in  me  shall 
never  die." 

^'  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall 
stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth;  and  though 
after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh 
shall  I  see  God,  whom  I  shall  see  for  myself,  and  not 
another." 

This  solemn  ritual  service  was  being  read  at  the 
head  of  a  tiny  grave,  over  a  small  unpainted,  rough 
pine  box,  in  which  lay  the  waxen  form  of  lovely  little 
May. 

The  poor,  heart-broken  mother  leaned  wearily  upon 
the  arm  of  Fitz,  in  whose  face  was  the  hard,  bitter  look 
tliat  had  come  there  when  little  May's  sweet  spirit  had 
been  torn  from  her  body  by  the  fiendish  soldier.  When 
he  looked  down  at  the  little  form,  so  still  and  cold  in 
death,  and  remembered  that  the  waxen  hands,  folded 
10*  II  U3 


Ill  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CI. AIR. 

SO  quietly  now,  had  been  used  last  to  implore  protec- 
tion, the  struggle  for  self-control  became  so  intense  that 
great  drops  of  sweat  stood  in  beads  upon  his  knitted 
brow,  and  his  mouth  twitched  convulsively.  The 
thirst  for  revenge,  absorbed  even  the  feeling  of  grief; 
and  he  stood  as  tearless  as  though  he  was  not  there  to 
consign  to  the  grave  the  idol  of  the  family. 

Harry  and  Clara,  hand  in  hand,  looked,  wonder- 
ingly,  from  the  minister  into  the  grave,  which  seemed 
too  dark  and  deep  to  be  the  resting-place  of  their  happy 
little  sister.  Rena  knelt  over  the  open  coffin,  kissing 
the  icy  lips,  as  thougli  she  could  not  give  them  up. 
J^efore  they  closed  the  lid,  INIrs.  St.  Clair  stooped,  and 
kissing  the  marble  brow,  said,  without  a  tear :  "  Even 
so.  Father,  if  so  itseemeth  good  unto  thee.'' 

Yours,  lovely  little  Snowdrop,  was  the  saddest  of  all 
sad  funerals :  but, 

"  This  world  was  all  too  bleak  and  cold, 
To  yield  you  quiet  rest : 
God  took  you  to  his  lieavenly  fold, 
And  laid  you  in  liis  breast." 

The  old  clergyman  who  performed  the  burial-service 
was  over  seventy  years  of  age.  The  soldiers  had  so 
cruelly  beaten  him,  that  his  right  arm  was  disabled 
for  life.  Some  one  had  to  hold  the  book,  and  he  read 
the  services  sitting  in  a  chair,  half  blinded  with  the 
smoke  fron\  the  ruins  of  the  biu-nt  church. 

It  Avould  be  impossible  to  imagine  the  sufferings  of 
our  people  after  the  terrible  raid.  Three  and  four 
families,  as  destitute  of  food  and  cloUihig  as  they  were 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  115 

of  slu'lter,  ini<2;lit  be  found  liiuldled  to^ctlicr  in  <a  con- 
demned ear.  Tliey  would  go  to  the  deserted  eanips  of 
the  enemy,  gatlier  up  the  corn  the  horses  had  left,  and 
boil  it  for  food. 

"  Wlien  we  thouglit  we  liaJ  reached  the  far  limit  at  hist, 
One  tliroe  —  and  the  point  of  endurance  be  past  — 
When  we  shivering  hung  on  the  verge  of  despair, 
There  still  seemed  capacity  left  us  to  bear.'^ 

Mrs.  St.  Clair's  pitiable  condition  attracted  the  sym- 
pathy of  a  party  who  were  going  across  the  country,  to 
seek  some  spot  where  the  danger  of  starving  was  less 
imminent;  than  in  Columbia.  They  invited  her  to  join 
their  party,  with  her  children.  The  journey  was  to  be 
made  in  a  dilapidated  old  road-wagon,  drawn  by  mules 
condemned  by  Sherman's  army  as  not  even  lit  for  them 
to  steal,  —  so  it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  the  extreme 
forlorn ness  of  the  animals.  It  was  understood,  before- 
hand, that  the  wagon  was  not  to  be  as  much  a  mode  of 
conveyance  by  day,  as  a  shelter  for  the  women  and  chil- 
dren by  night.  The  roads  were  almost  impassable,  and 
they  felt  it  safer  to  walk  than  ride.  Three  times  they 
were  bogged  d(3wn,  once  overturned,  and  often  drenched 
with  rain.  They  were  travelling  through  a  country 
desolated  by  Sherman,  and  chimneys  and  walls  — 
*' home's  last  relics"  —  were  all  that  was  left  to  tell 
wliere  the  "  hospitable  homes  of  Carolina"  once  stood. 
Often  these  poor  exiles  would  not  have  a  mouthful  to 
eat  for  a  day  or  two.  Then  they  woidd  come  up  to  an 
abandoned  camp,  and  get  enough  to  last  several  days. 
Once  they  had  been  twenty-four  hours  without  tasting 


116  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

food,  and  had  resigned  themselves  to  die,  when  they 

were  providentially  met  hy  the  Rev.  Colonel  S , 

with  provisions,  in  a  nondascript  vehicle,  a  cross  be- 
tween a  sleio^h  and  a  wheelbarrow.  The  Colonel  was  jro- 
ing  twenty  miles,  to  take  food  to  the  Yankee  prisoners. 
He  had  been  the  bravest  of  the  brave  upon  the  field 
of  battle.  Like  his  warrior  bishop,  he  laid  aside  his 
snowy  lawn  to  tread  "  war's  path  of  awful  duty,"  and, 
like  all  brave  men,  was  mao^nanimous  enouo:li  to  feel 
for  a  foe  in  his  power. 

"  Colonel,  you  are  not  surely  going  to  carry  food  to 
those  miserable  wretches  who  have  treated  us  so  bar- 
barously ? "  said  Mr.  L. 

^^  Yes,  sir,  that  is  just  what  I  am  on  my  way  to 
do,"  he  replied. 

^'  Do  you  think  they  deserve  anything  better  than 
prison-fare  when  they  have  wickedly  and  wantonly 
destroyed  all  the  food  in  the  country,  regardless  of  all 
our  entreaties  and  tlie  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  our 
women  and  children  must  starve  ?  I  implored  them 
to  leave  me  some  corn-meal  for  my  family  ;  they  said 
'certainly,'  and  then  fiendishly  emptied  a  barrel  of 
turpentine  into  the  bin.  No,  sir,  I  would  see  their 
whole  nation  starve,  before  I  would  take  from  the  pit- 
tance we  have  left  to  feed  them." 

''  Brother,  my  Bible  says,  '  If  your  enemy  hunger 
feed  him,  if  he  thirst  give  him  drink.'  These  men 
are  our  enemies,  and  God  knows  what  cruel  ones  they 
have  been,  but  they  are  now  in  our  power,  and  mag- 
nanimity, as  well  as  Christianity  forbids  our  letting 
them  starve.    Some  of  the  provisions  in  this  cart  have 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  117 

been  given  me  by  people  wlio  liave  not  two  weeks'  sup- 
ply ahead,  yet  they  divided  with  me,  and  I  prayed  God 
to  make  what  was  left  as  the  oil  and  meal  of  the  widow." 

"  Well,  you  are  wrong,  sir,  and  are  only  continuing 
the  war;  their  government  is  abundantly  able  to  take 
care  of  them;  they  leave  them  prisoners  in  a  country 
desolated  by  war,  even  when  our  government  has 
offered  to  release  them  without  exchange.  They  know 
our  own  soldiers  are  on  quarter  rations,  and  are  dying 
for  want  of  food.  We  used  it  as  an  argument  to  get 
tliem  to  take  their  prisoners  off  our  hands,  ^  that  w^e 
could  not  feed  them,'  but  they  persist  in  leaving  them 
here,  and  I  go  in  for  carrying  out  their  wishes,  and 
starving  them  to  death. 

"  No,  sir,  I  cannot  afford  to  become  the  agent  of 
Grant  and  Stanton,  in  carrying  out  any  such  inhuman 
plan;  to  their  God,  and  the  soldiers,  they  must  answer 
for  their  cold-blooded  cruelty,  but  I  will  not  consent 
to  become  a  party  in  it." 

^^  The  blessed  Saviour,  when  upon  the  earth,  sent 
out  His  Disciples  to  preach,  but  he  did  not  forbid  them 
to  preach,  or  request  them  not  to  preach  to  His  mur- 
derers ;  on  the  contrary.  He  commanded  them  to  preach 
His  gospel  to  His  murderers  first,  '  beginning  at  Jeru- 
salem.' He,  and  not  Grant  and  Stanton,  must  be  our 
copy,  and  to-day  He  says  to  us,  as  He  did  to  them  — 
*  Give  of  your  penury  to  the  men  who  have  burned  your 
liouses,  murdered  your  men,  women,  and  children,  and 
left  you  ruined,  desolate,  bereaved.'  It  is  a  hard  les- 
son for  flesh  and  blood,  I  grant  you,  but  we  cannot  skip 
it  and  l)e  prepared  for  the  great  examination  day." 


118  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

It  Is  a  matter  both  of  pride  and  rojoicinor  at  the 
South  that  the  statistics  of  our  enemies  prove  the  fact 
that,  notwithstanding  our  ports  were  blockaded,  and 
we  were  unable  to  procure  food,  clothing,  or  medicine, 
that  the  Federals,  who  had  the  whole  world  from  which 
to  draw  commissary  supplies,  allowed  over  one-tenth 
more  of  our  men  to  die  in  their  prisons,  than  they 
themselves  admit,  of  thei-r  men  who  died  in  Confed- 
erate prisons.  What  does  this  fact  prove?  I  think, 
most  conclusively,  that  AVirz  was  not  the  only  man 
who  deserved  hano^iuo^. 

Boys,  "  when  you  are  told  about  the  horrors  of 
Andersonville  and  the  cruelty  of  the  Southerners  to 
Federal  prisoners,'^  refer  them  to  their  own  statistics,* 
and  ask  them  whose  fault  it  was  that  their  prisoners 
were  left  here  to  starve,  and  how  it  happened  tliat  so 
many  more  of  our  men  died  under  their  care,  "if  they 
were  so  kind  and  merciful  ? "  for  they  had  all  the 
appliances  for  health,  comfort,  and  cure,  and  yet  "two 
out  of  every  fifteen  of  our  men  died  in  their  prisons,^' 
they  say,  and,  (of  course,  they  have  done  us  no  more 
than  justice,)  while  only  "  two  out  of  twenty-four  of 
their  men  died  in  our  Southern  pens.''  This  fact 
needs  no  comment ;  it  speaks  for  itself,  and  is  an 
answer  to  the  terrible  stories  of  Southern  barbarity, 
told  all  over  the  Xorth,  until  it  would  be  rare  to  find 
even  a  child  that  was  not  familiar  with  them. 

*  The  numbers  given  are  taken  from  the  report  of  the  Secretary 
of  War,  in  reply  to  a  resolution  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 
calling  upon  that  officer  for  "  the  number  of  prisoners  of  either 
side  held,  and  that  died  during  the  war." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

DEFEAT. 

AT  length  this  dreadful  war  is  ended. 
The  die  Is  cast, 
And  we  who  counted  ill  the  cost 

And  ventured  all, 
Have  staked  and  lost. 

Oh,  Heavenly  Father, 
Have  we  borne  the  sorrows  of  four  long  years, 
Have  we  wept  till  our  eyes  are  blind  with  tears, 

Only  to  meet  this  sight? 
Oh,  merciful  God,  can  it  really  be 
This  downfall  awaits  our  glorious  Lee 

And  the  cause  we  counted  right? 
Have  we  known  this  aching,  bitter  pain, 
Have  all  our  dear  ones  died  in  vain, 

Has  God  forsaken  quite? 
Is  this  the  answer  to  our  prayer, 
This  anguish  of  untold  despair, 

This  spirit-scathing  blight? 
Heart-broken,  we  kneel  on  the  bloody  sod. 
We  hide  from  the  wrath  of  our  angrj-  God, 

Who  bows  us  in  the  dust. 
We  heed  not  the  taunts  of  our  victor  foe  ; 
But  that  Thou,  O  God,  should  forsake  us  so, 

In  whom  was  our  only  trust." 

119 


120  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

When  Stonewall  Jackson,  our  immortal  battle-king, 
"crossed  the  dark  river  to  rest  under  the  shadow  of 
the  trees,"  shot  by  men  with  whom  his  very  name  was 
an  insj^iration,  and  who  would  have  died  to  save  him, 
"  shot  in  the  dark ! "  the  darkness  was  so  profound 
that  it  enveloped  the  whole  Confederacy  in  the  gloom, 
and  we  found  it  hard  to  keep  our  rebellious  hearts 
from  questioning  the  o'erwhelming  dispensation.  We 
could  not  bear  to  think  that  no  more  the  brigade  he  had 
rendered  immortal  w^ould  hear  the  command  "Silence! 
Ground  arms!  Caps  off!  Kneel  all!"  It  was  the 
midnight  of  our  cause,  when  we  needed  him  most,  and 
that  fatal  shot  just  then, 

"Ah  me,  how  dark!     Was  it  a  brief  eclipse, 
Or  was  it  night,  with  no  to-morrow's  sun, 
O  Father,  Father,  with  our  pale,  sad  lips, 

And  sadder  hearts,  we  tried  to  pray,  '  Thy  will  be  done.' " 

But  even  then,  hope  w^as  only  eclipsed,  not  extin- 
guished, for 

"  When  our  triumph  was  delayed, 
And  every  heart  grew  sore  afraid, 
AVe  still  hoped  on,  while  gleamed  the  blade 
Of  noble  Eobert  Lee." 

But  now,  that  too  is  sheathed,  and  all  is  gone,  save 
our  trust  in  God,  and  we  are  groping  after  him  "  in 
the  dark"  and  saying  with  Job,  "Oh,  that  we  might 
find  him"  amid  this  dreadful  gloom.  Xine  hundred 
thousand  millions  of  dollars,  and  the  lives  of  over  five 
hundred  thousand  white  men  sacrificed  to  make  slaves 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  121 

of  the  white  race  at  the  South,  and  place  the  ignorant 
negro  in  power.  Surely,  "  Thy  ways,  O  God,  are 
past  finding  out." 

Boys!  Soldiers'  sons!  My  whole  heart  goes  out  to 
you,  and  for  you,  and  I  am  writing  this  book,  God 
knows,  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  show  my  love  for 
you.  I  want  you  to  be  worthy  of  your  brave  fathers, 
and  never  permit  any  one  in  your  presence  to  say 
^'  they  were  the  perpetrators  of  unnatural  and  mon- 
strous crimes,"  or  that  "  they  fill  dishonored  graves." 
Listen  to  what  Governor  Wise  says  about  them,  for  I 
am  begs2:ared  for  words  when  I  attempt  to  write  about 
the  "  Heroes  of  the  Lost  Cause."     He  says  : 

^'  The  blessed  and  ever  glorious  dead,  are  not  here  to 
defend  their  memories  from  the  taint  of  the  reproach 
of  ^rebellion  and  treason.'  Alas!  I  am  alive,  and 
here,  and  am  bound  at  every  hazard  to  declare,  that 
our  fallen  braves  were  no  rebels,  and  no  traitors,  but 
were  true  patriots,  loyal  citizens,  well-tried  and  true 
soldiers,  brave,  honest,  devoted  men,  who  proved  their 
faith  in  their  principles,  by  the  deaths,  which  canon- 
ized them  '  immortal  heroes  and  martyrs.'  " 

Then,  Southern  boys,  we  again  call  upon  you  to  be 
true  to  the  memory  of  our  illustrious  dead,  for  there 
is  nothing  in  their  proud  record,  to  cause  a  blush  to 
tinge  your  cheek  ;  though  no  marble  shaft  pierces  the 
sky  to  tell  the  world  where  fallen  valor  lies,  their 
record  is  in  our  hearts,  their  memory  is  enshrined 
there,  and  we  offer  the  incense  of  affection  and  tears 
now,  with  as  sincere  a  devotion,  and  as  deep  sorrow 
as  when  we  consigned  them  to  the  tomb. 
11 


122  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  We  need  no  piles  of  sculptured  marble  gray- 
To  tell  us  where  our  Southern  soldiers  lay; 
Each  heart  erects  its  own  immortal  shrine, 
And  there  inscribes  the  epitaph  divine. 

*'  Brave  heroes  of  a  lost,  but  sacred  cause, 
Though  now  withheld  your  well-deserved  applause, 
Impartial  history  will  in  time  grow  bold, 
And  all  your  glorious  deeds  will  then  be  told." 

"We  can  afford  to  wait.  Good  men  and  true,  at  the 
North  as  well  as  at  the  South,  will  before  long  arise, 
and  claim  the  honor  of  assisting  to  rear  a  monument  to 
soldiers  who '^  died  fighting  to  maintain  the  United 
States  government  in  its  purity,  as  our  fathers  left  it 
to  us."  We  had  no  quarrel  with  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment, only  with  the  corru])t  tyrants  who  administered 
it,  so  as  to  turn  the  best  government  in  the  world  into 
a  cruel  despotism. 

I  know,  boys,  you  have  a  hard  time  of  it,  and  when 
the  sons  of  ignorant  and  unprincipled  men,  whom  the 
seething  of.  the  political  caldron  has  thrown  to  the 
surface,  are  lording  it  over  you  because  you  are  poor 
and  shabbily  dressed,  it  is  only  human  to  be  tempted 
to  wish  that  your  dear  fathers  had  stayed  at  home,  too, 
and  "  taken  care  of  number  one/'  instead  of  acting  as 
they  did.  But  don't  you  do  it,  for  you  have  a  capital 
in  your  father's  fame  that  far  outweighs  their  ill-gotten 
pelf.  Put  a  proper  estimate  upon  it ;  don't  squander 
it.  Anybody  can  make  money  if  they  are  not  par- 
ticular how  they  do  it,  and  are  willing  to  sacrifice 
conscience,  principles,  country,  to  accomplish  itj  but 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  123 

after  they  have  made  millions,  they  coukl  not  v.ith  it 
purchase  a  soul  like  your  father's  —  brave  enough  to 
die  in  defence  of  the  right.  No,  if  they  had  the 
Avealth  of  the  whole  world  in  their  possession,  they 
could  not  buy  such  an  one,  for  it  came  direct  from  God. 

The  tendency  to  mammon-worship,  in  this  age,  un- 
settles the  young,  and  they  learn  to  value  a  man  only 
for  what  he  is  worth  in  dollars  and  cents.  They  could 
have  no  more  incorrect  standard,  than  the  accident  of 
riches,  for  the  poorest  man  in  the  whole  world  is  the 
one  who  has  money  and  nothing  else.  Do  any  of  you 
know  for  a  certainty  the  name  of  ^^  the  rich  man" 
mentioned  in  the  Xew  Testament?  He  was  ''very 
rich,"  but  left  not  even  a  name,  while  the  name  of  the 
Christian  beggar  will  be  known  to  the  latest  generation. 
So  much  for  money,  used  to  the  soul's  undoing.  "  The 
name  of  the  wicked  shall  perish." 

If  you  can  make  money  honestly,  thank  God  for  it ; 
if  you  cannot,  He  don't  mean  you  to  have  it.  He 
knows  you  can't  be  trusted  with  it ;  and  don't  you 
turn  any  short  corners  to  circumvent  Him,  for  you 
will  have  to  spend  a  long  eternity  in  hell,  to  pay  the 
interest  on  money  stolen  by  your  superior  cunning 
from  widows  and  orphans. 

Dr.  Osgood  tells  us,  this  disgusting  sycophancy  to 
money,  is  not  found  among  the  cultivated  and  refined 
people  of  Europe.  ]\Iere  wealth,  will  not  entitle  you 
to  recognition  among  the  "  better  classes'^  there.  They 
are  intolerant  of  that  meanest  of  all  pride  — ''  purse- 
pride" —  but  delight  to  do  honor  to  talent,  no  matter 


124  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

how  lowly  its  accessories.  He  tells  us  of  a  poor 
scholar  wliom  he  visited  in  his  garret,  and  who,  not- 
withstanding his  poverty,  was  an  honored  guest  at  the 
king's  table.  In  America,  a  retired  boot-black  would 
have  snubbed  him.  But  mind,  and  do  not  err  too  far 
on  the  other  side,  by  taking  it  for  granted  a  ricli  man 
must  of  necessity  be  a  mean  man  ;  it  is  by  no  means 
so.  All  honor  is  due  tlie  man  wlio,  by  his  industry 
and  energy,  earns  money,  and  tlien  has  wisdom  enough 
to  use  it  in  drying  the  orphan's  tears  and  hushing  the 
Avidow's  cry,  and  who  can  say  to  a  struggling  brother, 
"Lean  on  me,  you  shall  not  fall."  In  the  day  of 
eternity,  when  the  gold  of  earth  will  be  valueless,  he 
will  find  placed  to  his  credit,  in  the  banker^s  book  of 
life,  "an  exceeding  great  and  eternal  weight  of  glory." 
Riches  are  often  sent  from  God  to  bless  humanity. 
Unborn  generations  will  thank  God  for  giving  George 
Peabody  wealth.  It  is  not  making  money  that  ruins 
a  man,  but  the  means  he  uses  in  order  to  make  it,  and 
the  application  of  it  after  it  is  made :  "  seeing  his 
neighbour  have  need,  and  shutting  up  his  bowels  of 
compassion."  What  comfort  do  you  suppose,  tlie  rec- 
ollection of  having  been  a  rich  man  will  afibrd  the  poor 
lost  soul,  who  has  heard  the  accusation,  "  I  was  an 
hungered  and  ye  fed  me  not,  naked  and  ye  clothed 
me  not  ?  "  "  Shrouds  have  no  pockets ;  "  and  what 
sensible  man  would  be  willing  to  be  a  poor  miserable 
bankrupt,  shut  up  in  the  regions  of  eternal  despair, 
throughout  a  long  eternity,  just  for  the  privilege  of  be- 
ing called  a  rich  man,  a  few  short  years  ? 


F  I  T  Z  -  II  U  C.  II     8  T  .    C  L  A  1  R  .  125 

The  Bible  tells  of  a  rich  man,  who,  "  when  the  ear 
IiearJ  him,  then  it  blessed  him,  and  when  the  eye  saw 
him,  it  iTiive  witness  to  him,  because  he  delivered  the 
poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and  him  that  had 
'  none  to  help  him.  The  blessinij^  of  him  that  was  ready 
to  perish  came  upon  him,  and  he  caused,  the  widow's 
heart  to  sing  for  joy.  He  w^as  eyes  to  the  blind,  and 
feet  to  the  lame.  He  was  a  father  to  the  poor,  and  the 
cause  he  knew  not,  he  searched  out." 

Who  would  not  be  such  a  rich  man  as  this?  Take 
him  for  your  model,  boys,  and  theu  make  all  the  money 
you  can.  But  Job  is  not  the  only  rich  man  who  blesses 
the  world  by  his  example.  We  have  some  of  nature's 
noblemen  even  in  our  own  day,  and  time.  I  know  a 
merchant-prince  —  I  wish  I  could  say  he  lived  in  South 
Carolina,  but  he  does  not  —  who  took  Job  for  his  model. 
He  started  in  life  very  poor,  and  met  no  sympathy 
while  struggling  with  adversity.  He  told  me  he  suf- 
fered so  much  from  the  want  of  a  friend,  that  he  re- 
solved, if  he  ever  had  it  in  his  power,  he  would  be  a 
friend  to  the  friendless  whenever  he  met  them,  and  not 
content  himself  with  telling  people  to  "go  to  work"  w^ho 
had  no  work  to  go  to ;  for  he  had  learned  from  the  sad 
experience  of  many  young  men,  that,  in  their  history, 
before  they  yielded  to  temptation,  there  was  a  time 
when  even  a  kind  look,  from  a  strong  man,  would 
have  saved  them.  It  w^as  a  poor  boon  they  craved ; 
but  it  wa5  withheld,  and  they  went  down  amid  the 
breakers.  Ah !  Cain  is  not  the  only  man,  to  whom  the 
Lord  will  say,  "The  voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  crieth 
11* 


126  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

unto  me  from  the  ground."  AA\»  all  crave  riches,  but 
who  would  willingly  assume  them,  with  their  respon- 
sibilities, if  our  eyes  were  enlightened.  The  owner  of 
the  ten  talents  must  bring  other  ten,  or  he  will  never 
hear  the  "  well  done"  of  his  Lord.  Well,  my  friend 
laid  down  his  plans  in  childhood,  and  has  worked  up 
to  them ;  and  to-day  is  a  great,  good  man,  whom  all 
love  to  honor.  His  first  plan  was,  "I  will  learn  how  to 
say  No ! "  and  this  he  did  to  the  temptation  to  chew 
and  smoke.  He  put  the  money  in  his  brains ;  and  now 
people  puff  him,  and  he  is  a  strong  man,  the  slave  of 
no  vile  habits.  Ten  years  ago  he  had  amassed  enough  to 
bequeath  to  each  of  his  family  a  fortune.  This  he  in- 
vested for  them ;  and  since  then,  although  as  unremitting 
as  ever  to  business,  —  often  being  found  in  front  of  his 
warehouses  when  his  less  industrious  clerks  come  to 
open  them  for  the  day,  —  he  religiously  gives  in  charity 
every  dollar  earned.  He  is  not  ashamed  of  work,  and 
he  says  this  is  one  great  secret  of  his  success :  he  does 
whatever  his  hands  find  to  do  with  all  his  might.  Be 
industrious,  boys.  Don't  let  your  mothers  earn  your 
bread, — you  will  be  a  disgrace  to  your  country  if  you 
do.  Take  your  hod  upon  your  shoulder,  if  needs  be, 
to  support  your  mother.  It  will  be  noble  and  manly. 
But  don't  let  her  support  you.  The  true  nobility  of 
our  Southern  gentlemen,  never  asserted  itself  more 
manifestly  than  in  the  way  they  have  borne  the  reverses 
of  this  war,  —  adapting  themselves  to  their  altered  for- 
tunes without  whining  or  repining,  and  dignifying 
labor  by  the  grace  and  intelligence  they  bring  to  its 
performance. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  127 

One  of  the  bravest  Generals  of  the  war,  after  the  sur- 
render, chipped  tlie  brick  of  ruined  Richmond  at  fifty 
cents  a  day.  Do  you  think  he  dis<rniced  himself  by  it? 
Xo!  Not  a  bit  more  than  you  will  disgrace  yourself 
if  you  will  give  up  hunting  a  place  to  sell  garters,  chig- 
nons, and  corsets  to  ladies,  and  go  to  work  like  boys,  at 
boys'  work. 

Another  General  put  the  gallant  war-steed,  he  had 
riddoii  at  the  head  of  his  division,  into  the  plough,  and 
laid  by  a  crop  for  his  widowed  mother's  family ;  and 
did  not  ride  up  in  the  fence-corners  to  hide  when  any  one 
came  in  sight,  as  some  of  you  would  have  done,  either. 

The  South,  calls  upon  her  boys  to  take  the  place  of 
those  whose  "leaf  has  perished  in  the  green;"  and  you 
cannot  do  it,  unless  you  go  to  work  with  brain,  and 
muscle..  Mind  is  power.  But  what  display  do  we 
see  of  it  ?  Compare  the  papers  of  our  day,  with  those 
of  the  days  of  Calhoun,  Hayne,  McDuflie,  Hugh  S. 
Lagare,  Langdon  Cheves,  Preston,  and  others.  Then, 
the  daily  papers  invited  young  men  to  attend  debating 
clubs,  orations,  and  speeches.  Now,  our  boys  have 
base-ball  clubs,  engine-suppers,  evenings  for  the  Ger- 
man, &Q.;  and  a  circus  will  take  the  last  dollar  out  of 
their  pockets,  while  they  would  scarcely  deign  to  ask 
tlie  subject  of  a  lecture,  no  matter  by  whom  delivered. 
AVill  you  be  equal  to  the  times  you  are  living  in? 
Away  up  yonder  is  the  niche  waiting  for  your  inscrip- 
tion. AVill  you  struggle  to  reach  it,  and  write  your 
name  there?  Remember,  it  was  the  name  your  brave 
father  bore ;  he  left  it  to  you  without  a  stain  upon  it. 


128  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

AVhat  are  you  going  to  do  witli  it  ?  Don't  you  trail  it 
in  the  dust;  on  your  peril,  don't  you  do  it.  Climb 
up,  and  write  it  high,  boys,  and  you  will  have  to  do  it 
without  any  assistance,  or  levering  up,  either,  for  you 
are  on  the  weak  side,  and 

"  This  world,  this  great  big  world, 
AVill  never  a  moment  stop 
To  see  which  dog  may  be  in  the  fault, 
But  will  shout  for  the  dog  on  top." 

Life  is  a  battle,  and  you  know  what  contempt  you 
feel  for  those  who  fought  for  their  country,  in  the  great 
struggle  through  which  we  have  just  passed,  by  proxy. 
So  don't  you  imitate  them.  Ask  no  one  to  do  for  you 
what  you  can  do  for  yourself.     Remember, 

"  In  battle  or  business  —  whatever  the  game  — 
In  love,  or  in  law,  it  is  always  the  same : 
In  the  struggle  for  power,  or  scramble  for  pelf, 
He  will  only  succeed  who  'relies  on  himself.'" 

"  Incompetency  in  power "  has  forever  ruined  this 
once  glorious  country.  "  The  times  were  great,  but  the 
men  were  small."  If  Calhoun,  ^yebster,  and  Clay,  had 
been  alive,  their  wise  counsels  would  have,  as  in  other 
days,  saved  us.     But 

"Carolina  mourned  her  steadfast  'Pine,' 

Which,  like  a  mainmast,  towered  above  her  realm ; 
And  Ashland  hears  no  more  the  voice  divine 

From  out  the  branches  of  her  '  stately  Elm.' 
And  ^larshfield's  giant  Oak,  whose  stormy  brow 

Oft  turned  the  ocean  tempest  from  the  West, 
Lies  on  the  sliore  he  guarded  well :  and  now 

Our  startled  eagle  had  nowhere  to  rest," 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  129 

Never  can  I  forget  tlie  scene  in  the  United  States 
Senate  when  John  C.  Calhoun's  death  was  announced. 
It  was  Monday.  Mr.  Callioun  had  died  on  Sunday. 
The  Senate  chamber  was  crowded.  Tliere  was  but  one 
vacant  seat  —  a  senator's  chair;  but,  oh,  how  vacant 
that  was !  The  scene  was  awe-inspiring.  All  the  com- 
peers of  the  great,  good  man,  who  had  vacated  that  chair, 
were  there.  Daniel  Webster,  clothed  in  deep  mourn- 
ing, his  majestic  features  set  like  stone,  and  his  mar- 
vellous eyes  gazing  steadily  into  space,  sat  in  a  direc- 
tion opposite  the  ''  vacant  chair,"  and  looked  away 
from  it,  as  though  not  yet  prepared  to  receive  the  sad 
tidings  it  revealed.  I  had  never  seen  such  a  look  of 
sadness  upon  that  great,  glorious  face  before.  He 
seemed  to  be  overcome  by  the  sad  event. 

Seated  immediately  opposite  to  Mr.  Webster  was 
Kentucky's  matchless  son  —  pale,  subdued,  mournful. 
AVhen  the  announcement  was  made,  heart-beats  were 
audible.  The  silence  was  so  profound,  it  seemed  like 
death's  rehearsal.  Not  a  word  was  uttered  until  Mr. 
Webster  turned  slowly,  and  looked  at  Mr.  Clay,  who, 
with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  vacant  chair,  arose  and  com- 
menced, after  a  moment's  pause,  in  liis  own  musical 
voice,  to  speak  of  his  friend,  as  he  had  known  him  when, 
little  more  than  a  boy,  he  first  stood  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives at  the  age  of  thirty,  ^[r.  Calhoun  was  Sec- 
retary of  War.  As  Mr.  Clay  recalled  the  early  scenes  in 
the  Congressional  career  of  the  great  departed,  his  whole 
form  swayed  with  emotion,  and  his  pathetic,  melting 
eloquence  brought  tears  to  every  eye.     His  voice  was 


130  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

muffled  and  sul)diied,  and  he  several  times  paused, 
overcome  by  his  feelings. 

In  conclusion,  he  said,  "  Mr.  Calhoun  was  my 
junior  in  years,  but  in  nothing  else;'^  then,  turning 
and  pointing  with  his  long,  eloquent  forefinger  to  "  the 
vacant  chair,^'  he  asked,  in  deepest  tone,  that  terrible 
question  —  "When  shall  that  great  vacancy  be  filled?" 

That  question  is  still  unanswered ;  it  has  come 
sounding  down  the  ages,  and  echo  is  still  asking  it  of 
you,  boys  of  the  South  :  "  When  ?    AVhen  ?    When  ?" 

Can  you  think  without  a  blush,  who  are  now 
assuming  to  occupy  the  seats  of  Calhoun,  Hayne, 
Yancey,  Stephens,  Davis,  Tombs,  Hill,  and  the  other 
great  men  who  in  the  past  made  the  South  so  illus- 
trious ? 

These  great  men  were  all  boys  once,  as  you  are  now, 
and  in  their  boyhood  laid  the  foundation  of  their  great- 
ness by  hard  study.  "  Mind  is  power.''  Impudence 
and  ignorance  will  be  obliged  to  yield  to  integrity  and 
learning.  What  are  you  doing  to  prepare  yourselves 
to  fill  the  places  they  have  left  vacant?  Are  you 
whining  because  your  property  has  all  been  taken  from 
you  ?  If  you  have  your  health  and  your  minds,  thank 
God,  and  make  your  fortunes  yourselves.  Go  to  work, 
and  "don't  stand  shiv^ering  for  last  year's  snow." 
Don't  go  back  upon  the  record  your  fathers  have  left. 
They  worked  for  the  positions  they  obtained,  and  if 
you  expect  to  take  their  places,  you  will  have  to  work 
too,  for  no  one  ever  heard  of  a  great  statesman  being 
made  out  of  a  bandbox-boy,  whose  greatest  ambition 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.   CLAIR.  131 

was  to  sraell  sweet,  wear  modified  pink  neckties,  and 
moonlight-on-the-lake  kids,  and  stand  behind  the 
counter  to  sell  chignons,  or  measure  ladies'  busts  to 
fit  them  with  French  corsets.  Imagine,  if  you  can, 
John  C.  Calhoun  in  such  a  situation ;  and  yet,  to  fill 
such  places  is  the  height  of  the  ambition  of  many, 
(yes,  too  many)  of  our  boys,  who  take  the  places  of 
their  sisters,  but  are  insulted  at  being  called  "  a  Miss 
Nancy,"  the  name  to  which  their  class  is  legitimately 
entitled.  Wake  up,  boys,  to  a  sense  of  your  own  dig- 
nity, and  be  men  —  high-toned,  energetic  working 
men  —  a  blessing  to  the  community  and  the  world 
which  sadly  needs  strong  men. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    MOVE   TO   CHAKLESTON. 

A  FTER  the  evacuation  of  Charleston,  Mrs.  St. 
-^-^  Clair  and  her  family  moved  down  and  hired  a 
room  in  the  city.  They  had  no  furniture,  not  even  a 
bed.  It  was  a  pitiful  sight  to  see  their  utter  desti- 
tution. At  night  the  two  little  children  lay  on  a 
shaAvl,  with  their  heads  on  their  mother's  lap. 

Fitz  went  out  to  hunt  work.  Mrs.  Gassy,  whose 
husband  was  now  '^  truly  loyal,"  and  in  consequence 
had  obtained  a  situation  under  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment, allowed  him  to  throw  in  a  load  of  coal,  and 
paid  him  half  ^^I'ice  for  it.  The  money  thus  obtained 
bought  them  a  candle  and  some  bread  and  cheese,  for 
which  they  Avere  deeply  gr^ateful. 

On  the  third  day  after  their  arrival  in  the  city,  as 
Fitz  was  cleaning  some  brick,  for  wdiich  he  was  to  be 
paid  seventy  cents,  he  looked  up,  and  to  his  surprise 
saw  standing  right  in  front  of  him,  too  much  amazed 
to  speak,  his  father's  old  coachman.  Uncle  Jack. 

"What    you    doing.   Mass    Fitz?"   he   asked,   at 

132 


FITZ-IIUOH    ST.    CLAIR.  133 

length,  at  the  same  time  taking  the  trowel  from  the 
hand  of  Fitz,  and  saying -j  *^What  sort  of  hands  i^ 
them  to  be  doing  snoh  dirty  work  as  this?  Who  put 
you  at  it,  and  where  's  your  ma  ?  '^ 

"  I  am  cleaning  brick,  Uncle  Jack,  to  earn  money 
to  buy  bread  for  my  mother  and  the  children.  They 
never  have  a  mouthful  to  eat  unless  I  earn  it,  and  I 
have  to  spend  so  much  time  hunting  up  work  that  I 
lose  time ;  if  I  could  only  find  steady  employment,  I 
could  do  better." 

"  I  think  you  ^  could  do  better '  than  to  chop  brick. 
Mass  Fitz.  You  got  to  stop  it ;  it's  no  sort  of  work 
for  you,  and  I  don't  believe  Mistress  knows  a  breath 
of  it.  Come,  stop  now,  and  carry  me  to  see  Mistress 
and  the  children." 

"  I  can't  until  one.  Uncle  Jack  ;  I  made  a  contract, 
and  I  must  stick  to  it,  you  know." 

"Yes,  you're  just  like  your  pa.  I'll  go  and  fetch 
your  Maumer,  and  we  will  be  back  by  one,  your 
*  knocking-off  time,'  as  you  call  it,"  he  said,  casting  a 
most  contemptuous  look  at  the  man,  who  had  dared  to 
hire  his  master's  son. 

Long  before  one,  Fitz  saw  Uncle  Jack  coming,  but 
Maumer  was  far  ahead  of  him.  The  "  old  man " 
could  n't  keep  up  after  she  got  a  sight  of  her  child. 
She  threw  her  arms  around  Fitz,  kissed  him,  hugged 
him,  cried,  laughed,  and  wiped  his  jacket  oif  with  her 
clean  white  apron,  as  though  she  was  in  the  nursery 
at  Glendaire,  and  he  was  still  a  nursling.  They  went 
to  Mrs.  St.  Clair's  unfurnished  room,  and  old  Maumer 
12 


134  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

just  threw  herself  down  on  tlie  floor  and  cried  out, 
when  Harry  and  Clara  told  her  they  had  ^'  no  bed, 
and  no  chair  to  sit  on,  only  a  box."  For  more  than 
an  hour  the  faithful  old  creatures  acted  as  if  they  were 
wild,  but  at  length  became  composed  enough  to  tell 
what  had  transpired  at  Glendaire  since  the  family  left. 
The  information  filled  their  hearts  with  sadness.- 
"  The  white  folks  what  came  there  from  the  Norard 
had  the  £rst  pickings,'^  Jack  said.  "  They  took  the 
silver,  the  picters,  the  bustses,  the  books,  the  pianny, 
orgin,  carpits,  all  the  finest  flowers,  and  everything 
else  they  wanted.  Then  some  ladies,  what  came  there 
to  teach  school,  took  some  of  the  beds,  and  bedding, 
and  chancy,  and  glass,  and  table-cloths,  and  sich 
things.  The  soldiers  took  the  blankets ;  then,  after 
they  had  most  scuttled  the  house,  they  let  that  impi- 
dent  nigger  Cudjjoe  move  in  with  all  his  tribe.  Last 
winter,  a  dozen  more  families  moved  in.  .Cudjoe  got 
drunk,  and  as  he  was  going  through  the  house  with  a 
lighted  torch,  he  sot  fire  to  the  curtains  in  the  library, 
and  the  whole  of  that  side  of  the  house  was  burnt  up, 
and  the  rest  part  welluigh  ruined,  for  the  roof  was 
burnt  off,  and  every  time  it  rains  as  much  water  falls 
inside  the  house  as  outside." 

Cudjoe  had  full  possession,  and  Uncle  Jack  thought 
if  Fitz  would  go  down  with  him,  they  might  get 
enough  furniture  for  Mrs.  St.  Clair's  room  at  least. 
So  Fitz  concluded  to  go  on  the  following  day  with 
Uncle  Jack. 

Aunt  Clarissa  "  came  to  stay  with  Mistress  while 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  135 

tliey  were  away,"  and  made  tlie  cliildren  quite  liappy 
by  the  presents  slie  brouglit.  For  Harry  and  Clara 
she  broujrht  a  bench  apiece,  also  two  nice  nings  witli 
compliments  upon  themselves,  which  were  worth  as 
much  to  the  children  as  the  cups  were.  Harry's  was 
**  for  a  good  little  boy,"  Clara's  ^'  for  a  good  little 
girl."  For  Mistress  and  Miss  Rena  she  had  ^'  rale 
chany  cups,  saucers,  and  plates,  besides  a  rocking-chair 
for  Mistress,  and  an  accordeon  for  Fitz,  which  she 
thought  would  help  mightily  to  cheer  them  up  if  he 
Avould  play  on  it  every  night."  Rena  smiled  as  she 
thought  of  the  ludicrous  picture  Fitz  would  present 
sitting  on  the  floor  playing  the  accordeon;  but  the 
smile  soon  vanished  when  she  remembered  how  worn 
out  and  fatigued  the  poor  boy  always  came  home  now 
at  night.  She  did  not  let  on,  however,  that  the  gift 
was  other  than  the  most  appropriate  his  faithful  old 
nurse  could  have  brought  him. 

The  visit  to  the  plantation  was  a  fruitless  one. 
When  they  approached  the  house,  Cudjoe  (Washing- 
ton, as  he  now  called  himself)  walked  out  on  the 
colonnade,  and  pretended  not  to  recognize  his  master's 
son. 

He  was  a  coal-black,  thick-lipped  African,  and  had 
been  bought  in  Xew  Orleans  by  General  St.  Clair  as  a 
blacksmith  for  the  plantation,  just  before  the  war. 

The  negroes  all  despised  him,  for  he  had  not  been 
raised  with  them,  and  they  knew  New^  Orleans  was 
the  Botany  Bay  for  criminal  slaves.  To  be  "shipped 
to  New  Orleans  "  was  the  punishment  threatened  for 


136  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

all  crimes  in  the  slave  State^^,  therefore,  the  intro- 
duction of  this  doubtful  character  among  the  servants 
at  Glendaire,  whose  grandfathers  had  worked  where 
they,  the  grandchildren,  were  now  working,  was  by- 
no  means  approved.  None  of  the  servants  would 
associate  with  him,  or  show  him  the  slightest  favor. 
General  St.  Clair  sent  to  Virginia,  and  purchased  his 
wife  after  buying  him,  and  settled  them  very  com- 
fortably in  a  cabin  of  their  own.  He  was  a  suspicious 
cliaracter,  and  had  neither  the  confidence  of  his  fellow- 
servants  nor  that  of  his  owner,  and  the  fact  is,  the  gal- 
lows had  been  cheated  of  its  due  when  the  vile  fellow 
was  shipped  from  Virginia,  instead  of  being  hung,  as 
he  deserved,  for  committing  one  of  the  most  diabolical 
crimes  in  the  whole  dark  catalogue  of  sin.  The  Gen- 
eral did  not  know  it,  however.  New  and  improved 
machinery  introduced  upon  his  plantation  required  that 
he  should  have  a  superior  blacksmith,  so  he  sent  an 
agent  to  make  the  purchase  for  him,  and  this  un- 
principled vulcan  was  introduced  at  Glendaire. 

\\'hen  he  saw  Fitz,  he  asked  him  what  he  was 
"  poaching  on  his  premises  for  "  ?  and  ordered  him  to 
"  leave  instantly,"  or  he  would  put  a  bullet  through 
him. 

Uncle  Jack  had  made  Fitz  promise  to  let  him  "  do 
the  argifying,  cause  Cudjoe  was  no  gentleman,  and  did 
not  know  how  to  talk  to  a  gentleman;"  therefore,  he 
informed  the  Hon.  Mr.  Washington  what  was  the 
object  of  their  visit,  and  told  him  of  Mrs.  St.  Clair's 
extreme  need. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  137 

Cudjoe  would  not  hear  him  out,  but  flew  into  a  ter- 
rible ra<2:e;  said  "he  rejoiced  to  hear  of  everybody 
who  had  white  blood  in  their  veins  suffering,  for  he 
would  as  soon  kill  a  white  person  as  he  would  a  suck- 
egg  dog ; "  said  the  white  man's  day  was  over,  and 
the  black  man  would  govern  this  country  in  future. 
He  called  Uncle  Jack  a  traitor  for  talking  about 
"  white  people  having  rights ; "  they  had  no  right  to 
anything,  except  having  their  throats  cut,  and  he 
would  proceed  to  give  that  white-faced  scoundrel 
(pointing  at  Fitz)  his  rights  if  he  did  not  walk  otf 
from  his  plantation  in  double-quick  time. 

The  loud  talking  had  brought  out  a  crowd  of 
negroes.  Most  of  them  were  strangers  to  Fitz,  for 
the  old  estate  servants  had  too  much  principle  to 
remain  under  the  control  of  Cudjoe,  and  had  sought 
homes  elsewhere ;  so  he  was  allowed  undisturbed  sway. 

Fitz  told  Uncle  Jack  there  was  "no  use  in  multi- 
plying words,  and  he  preferred  to  go." 

"Jis  so.  Mass  Fitz;  Cudjoe  is  a  mean,  onprinci- 
pled  nigger,  and  al'ays  was.  The  Yankees,  and  no- 
count  niggers  has  made  a  Senator  out  of  him  ;  but  the 
Avhitewash  ain't  thick  enough,  the  nigger  shows 
through,  and  any  respectable  colored  pussun  would 
be  ashamed  to  associate  with  him." 

Before  they  left  for  home,  they  appealed  to  a  man 
with  a  white  skin,  who  seemed  to  be  in  command  on 
the  island,  and  asked  his  assistance  in  getting  a  few 
household  ai tides  for  the  use  of  the  family.  But  the 
gallant  official  refused  to  interfere,  and  coolly  told 
U* 


138  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

Fitz  "  lie  had  come  South  to  get  money  and  position. 
Color  was  nothing  to  him ;  the  man  that  had  the  vote 
and  would  give  it  to  him  was  his  man,  therefore  he 
should  not  disturb  the  Hon.  Mr.  Washington  in  the 
possession  of  any  of  his  rights  and  immunities,  but 
would  have  him  (Fitz)  arrested  instantly  if  he  did  not 
leave  the  island." 

This  visit  of  Fitz  to  his  dear  old  home  was  in- 
deed a  sad  one.  He  found  the  groves  of  lemon, 
orange,  and  olives  all  cut  level  with  the  ground.  The 
thriftless  usurpers  had  used  the  trees  for  firewood,  to 
save  the  trouble  of  walking  a  few  hundred  yards 
further  and  getting  proper  fuel.  The  majestic  live- 
oaks  had  fallen  by  the  same  vandal  hands.  The  resi- 
dence was  more  than  three-fourths  consumed  by  fire; 
and  to  crown  it  all,  the  family  vault  had  been  opened, 
the  heavy  iron  door  torn  down  ;  the  bones  of  his  an- 
cestors and  pieces  of  their  coffins  were  lying  around, 
and  the  ghouls  had  turned  the  sacred  repository  of  the 
dead  into  a  doo;-kennel.  The  scene  was  so  revoltino; 
to  the  sensitive  nature  of  Fitz,  that  he  stood  aghast, 
and  Uncle  Jack  had  to  seat  him  on  a  rock  near  by 
until  he  could  recover  from  the  terrible  shock  to  his 
feelino's. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair's  family  w^ere  in  the  greatest  destitu- 
tion. Reua  was  in  dreadful  health,  and  would  faint 
away  from  pure  exhaustion  two  or  three  times  a  day. 
Fitz  worked  manfullv  nio^ht  and  dav,  doiuor  anvthins 
honorable  that  presented  itself,  no  matter  how  hard  or 
menial  the  labor. 


FlTZ-llUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  139 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  had  been  ur2;ino;  liim,  ever  since  they 
came  to  the  city,  to  go  and  see  Mr.  Gassy,  and  tell 
him  of  their  sad  condition.  "  She  felt  assured  he 
Avould  esteem  it  not  only  a  duty,  but  a  privilege,  to 
make  good  his  promise  to  her  in  some  way."  The 
very  soul  of  Fitz  revolted  at  the  thought  of  asking  a 
favor  of  this  Vicar  of  Bray,  but  went,  under  protest, 
at  his  mother's  exj^ress  command. 

He  found  the  gentleman  in  his  office,  conversing 
with  some  Federal  officers,  and  was  thus  accosted  by 
him :  "  Well,  St.  Clair,  have  you  come  begging, 
too?''  Then,  turning  to  his  epauletted  acquaintance, 
he  said  :  "  Here  is  the  son  of  a  hair-brained  fool, 
who  threw  away  his  'life  fighting  to  free  his  niggers, 
and  make  slaves  and  beggars  of  his  children.  You 
need  not  come  begging  here,  Fitz ;  I  told  your  father 
how  his  treason  would  end,  but  my  expostulations  and 
warnings  availed  nothing.  Gentlemen,  I  have  told 
you  that  for  my  allegiance  to  the  flag  of  our  glorious 
Union  my  life  during  the  war  was  thi-eatened  again 
and  again.  Well,  this  poor  beggar's  father  was  my 
chief  persecutor,  and  now  see  how  wonderfully  my 
Heavenly  Father  has  manifested  His  approval  of  my 
poor  services ;  "  and  here  his  feelings  so  entirely  over- 
came him,  tiiat  he  broke  down,  and  had  to  put  his 
handkerchief  up  to  his  face, 

"To  hide  the  floods  of  teara 
he  did  not  shed." 

"  Never  mind,  my  brave,   noble  friend,"  said  the 


140  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

deluded  officer,  "tlie  times  that  tried  your  soul  are 
past,  and  now  you  can  ride  over  the  necks  of  your 
tormentors.  The  goyernment  to  which  you  proved 
so  faithful  will  reward  you  a  hundred-fold  —  " 

^'  Don't  talk  of  reward,  my  dear  sir ;  am  I  not 
more  than  rewarded  for  all  my  suffering  and  tears  in 
the  proud  joy  I  feel  at  haying  the  dear  flag  which  — '' 
and  here  he  broke  down  again  and  tried  to  cry  some 
more  —  '^  which  I  wore  folded  on  my  heart  all  throu^rh 
the  dreadful  war.  I  say,  am  I  not  rewarded  in  seeing 
it  floating  proudly  in  the  breezes  of  my  own  Carolina? 
Oh  -  oh  -  oh  ; ''  and,  sobbing,  "  I  only  want  a  lucra- 
tive office,  so  as  to  flaunt  it  in  the  face  of  the  Seces- 
sionists and  say  :  See  how  my  Government  rewards 
her  truly  loyal  sons.  The  feeling  is  not  right,  I 
know,  but  I  glory  in  any  opportunity  that  displays  our 
triumph.  I  wish  you  would  give  me  two  or  three 
offices ;  I  want  to  spend  every  moment  of  my  time  in 
the  service  of  the  government  for  which  I  have  en- 
dured so  much.  I  love  to  work  under  this  precious 
emblem  ;  I  feel  dignified  by  it;''  and  he  took  the  little 
three-cent  flag  from  his  button-hole  and  squeezed  it 
until  he  came  nearly  turning  himself  wrong  side  out 
with  emotion. 

''  But  what  are  you  waiting  for  ?  "  said  he,  turning 
to  Fitz ;  ^'  I  tell  you,  sir,  if  your  traitor  father  —  '^ 
Fitz  jumped  at  him,  caught  him  by  the  collar,  and, 
fairly  purple  with  rage,  said,  "  You  arch  hypocrite ; 
don't  you  take  my  father's  name  in  your  vile  lips 
again.     You  have  swindled  his  family  out  of  every 


FITZ-nUGlI    ST.    CLAIR.  141 

dollar  he  left  them,  and  if  I  ever  hear  you  mention 
his  name  again,  boy  iis  I  am,  I  will  ehoke  you  to 
death."  The  grasp  he  held  was  very  suggestive  of 
what  he  might  aecomplish  in  that  line,  and,  as  it  was 
very  desirable  no  denouement  should  be  made  in  pres- 
ence of  the  officers,  Mr.  Gassy,  with  the  long-suffering 
look  of  one  accustomed  to  endure,  removed  Fitz's 
hand,  saying  quietly,  ''I  could  not  afford  to  fight 
with  a  boy,  you  know.  Fitz,  you  had  better  chal- 
lenge Gassy  junior."  "  Yes,"  replied  Fitz,  "and  if 
he  is  as  grand  a  coward  as  his  father,  I  might  take  it 
out  in  challenging.  Lying  and  stealing  are  the  only 
accomplishments  of  the  Gassy  family;"  and  he  walked 
away,  vexed  with  himself  for  going,  and  vexed  with 
his  mother  for  sending  him. 

"  I  like  that  fellow's  grit,"  said  the  officers  to  each 
other;  "he  is  as  brave  as  Julius  Caesar." 

"  Been  raised  a  bully,"  said  Gassy;  "all  the  South- 
ern gentry  are  bullies." 

"You  did  not  belong  to  the  gentry,  then  ? "  said 
Major  S.,  with  a  knowing  wink  at  his  companions; 
"  I  thought  I  understood  you  that  you  did." 

"Xot  the  slave-driving  gentry,  sir;  I  was  always 
an  Abolitionist." 

"And  I  never  was,"  said  the  Major,  coolly,  to 
Gassy's  infinite  surprise.  "I  fought  for  the  Union, 
and  not  for  the  abolition  of  slavery.  I  knew  when 
slavery  ceased  to  be  profitable  at  the  Xorth,  we  abol- 
ished it,  and  I  expected  the  South  would  do  so  too  at 
tiio  proj)er  time.  I  was  opposed  to  emancipation 
before  the  negroes  were  prepared   for  it;  and  as  to 


142  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

universal  suffrage,  I  think  it  is  a  suggestion  of  the 
devil  to  destroy  this  government.  Ignorance  in  high 
places  will  work  our 'ruin.  Oood  day,  sir ; ''  and  he 
walked  off  with  his  opinion  of  his  "  brave  and  noble 
friend  "  considerably  lowered. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  get  along  in  Charleston, 
Fitz  resolved  to  go  to  New  York.  He  had  heard  it 
was  quite  easy  to  obtain  employment  there,  and  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  and  work  there,  until  things 
were  settled  here..  The  needle- work  of  Mrs.  St.  Clair 
and  Reua  brought  in  just  what  kept  soul  and  body  to- 
gether, but  the  united  labor  of  the  three,  did  not  yield 
enough  to  warrant  any  investment  in  the  way  of  fur- 
niture, and  they  stood  sorely  in  need  of  beds,  chairs, 
tables,  and  cooking-utensils.  They  did  not  even  have 
a  change  of  clothing,  and  the  poor,  tired  mother  some- 
times washed  and  ironed  all  nio^ht  that  the  clothing  her 
sleeping  little  ones  had  just  taken  off  might  be  put  on 
them  in  the  morning  clean. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  insisted  it  was  better  to  get  on  even 
so,  and  do  without  everything,  rather  than  have 
Fitz  leave  them.  Fitz  knew  it  was  not  "  better.'^ 
Thoughts  of  a  separation  from  his  family  were  as 
painful  to  him  as  it  was  to  them,  but  he  saw  no  alter- 
native. He  could  not  let  them  starve.  "  I  do  not  fear 
for  myself;  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  endure  every- 
thing, dear  mother,  only  let  me  feel  that  you  are  happy." 

"  Happy !  "  she  repeated,  abstractedly,  as  though 
the  word  was  new  to  her.  "  Happy  !  Oh,  yes,  we 
used  to  be  happy.  Why  is  it  all  so  changed?  I  am 
tired  of  the  struggle ; "  and  she  wept  long  and  bitterly. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE   TRIP   NORTH. 


AFTER  Fitz  decided  to  go  North,  he  set  himself  to 
work  trying  to  obtain  the  means  to  put  his  plan* 
into  execution.     He  had  no  money,  and  had  never  yet 
asked  help,  so  he  resolved  to  work  his  passage  on  the- 
steamship  Adger,  if  the  Captain  would  employ  him. 

In  reply  to  his  application,  he  was  informed  '^  a 
boy  was  wanted,  but  one  able  to  do  drudgery ;  the 

place  would  not  suit  you  at  all,''  said  Capt.  L , 

looking  at  the  graceful,  handsome  boy  before  him. 

''Then  I  will  try  and  suit  the  place,"  said  Fitz,  "if  " 
you  will  allow  me  the  opportunity  of  doing  so.     I 
must  get  to  New  York,  and  there  is  no  other  way  for 
me  to  accomplish  it,  but  to  work  my  passage." 

"  Come,  then,  in  the  morning,  and  make  a  begin- 
ning by  cleaning  the  brass  on  the  steps.  We  sail  to- 
morrow, and  there  is  a  good  deal  to  be  done." 

"  Thank  you ;  you  may  depend  on  me,  sir."  Fitz 
left  the  boat,  and  encountered  Uncle  Jack  on  the 
wharf. 

143 


144  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Uncle  Jack  ?  " 

"Going?  *  Why,  I  am  going  on  board  that  boat. 
Your  IMaumer  told  me  you  was  going  to  the  North, 
and  I  came  to  see  if  you  had  choosed  a  comfortable 
state-room  —  " 

"  Comfortable  state-room !  Why,  Uncle  Jack,  what 
are  you  talking  about?  Where  do  you  suppose  I 
could  muster  money  enough  to  pay  for  a  state-room  ? 
I  have  been  down  hiring  myself  as  a  cabin-boy,  and 
intend  working  my  passage  on  Xorth  ;  ^'  then,  turning 
round,  he  pointed  to  the  steps  of  the  steamer,  and  said : 
"  Do  you  see  that  brass,  Uncle  Jack  ?  Well,  I  must  have 
it  shining  like  silver  to-morrow  before  ten  o'clock." 

"  Who  got  to  shine  it ;  not  you,  Mass  Fitz  ?  " 

"  Yes,  me.  Mass  Fitz ;  and  you  just  come  down 
and  see  how^  beautifully  I  will  do  it.  You  know  I 
have  seen  you  shine  the  carriage-  and  harness-brass 
often." 

"  I  s'pose  you  has,  but  that 's  no  reason  you  should 
do  it.  You  wa'n't  made  for  any  sich,  and  I  don't  like 
this  upside-down  way  of  doing  things.  Everything's 
got  wrong-end  foremost,  inside  out,  and  hind  part 
before,  seems  to  me,  and  there 's  no  telling  which  from 
t'other.  As  to  all  this  hue  and  cry  about  '  bottom 
rail  being  top  rail,'  who  dunno,  no  fence  made  after 
dat  pattern  will  be  strong  enough  to  keep  animals  out 
of  de  corn  ?  " 

"Well,  Uncle  Jack,  we  can't  help  it.  You  know 
you  used  to  tell  me,  when  my  kites  flew  away,  that 
^  there  was  no  use  crying  after  spilled  milk,'  so  don't 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  145 

let  US  fret  about  the  turu  affairs  have  taken,  but  try 
and  do  the  best  we  can  under  the  circumstances.  I 
want  Mauraer  and  yourself  to  take  care  of  the  family 
when  I  am  gone." 

"  We  are  bound  to  do  it,  Mass  Fitz,  but  I  have 
never  cease  done  abusing  myself,  for  not  standing  up 
for  the  rights  of  the  family  at  the  plantation.  I  jis 
gived  up  like  a  coward,  and  let  everything  go  to  the 
dogs,  and  now  you  all  is  a  sufferin'  for  it,  and  it's 
nobody's  fault  but  mine,  for  your  Maumer  did  every- 
thing in  the  world  she  could,  to  put  some  sperrit  in 
me ;  but,  you  see,  I  thought  the  war  would  soon  be 
over,  and  Master,  I  knew,  could  teach  Mister  Cudjoe 
Washington  his  place  in  ten  minutes,  so  I  let  things 
go,  and  they  went,  sure  enough." 

^'  Xever  mind,  Uncle  Jack,  you  meant  right,  I  am 
sure,  and  I  am  glad  you  did  not  get  yourself  killed, 
which  you  would  have,  in  all  probability,  done,  if  you 
had  attempted  to  dispute  possession  of  the  house  with 
Cudjoe;  so  it's  all  for  the  best,  I  reckon,  at  least  we 
will  try  and  think  so." 

The  next  morning  when  Fitz  went  on  board  the 
steamer,  he  found  Uncle  Jack  had  been  there  scouring 
and  cleaning  for  hours.  His  work  was  all  beautifully 
done,  and  the  old  fellow  was  in  the  Captain's  room, 
talking  in  a  way  that  made  Fitz  feel  exceedingly  em- 
barrassed. He  was  saying  when  Fitz  went  in  :  "  You 
see,  Captain,  Mass  Fitz  ain't  none  of  your  poor  white 
trash ;  he  is  a  gentleman,  sir,  and  the  son  of  a  gentle- 
man, and  I  don't  want  you  to  put  him  to  waiting  on 
13  K 


146  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

any  poor  buckras.  Let  him  stay  in  liere  with  yon, 
for  his  father  teached  him  all  about  thernometei's,  and 
barnoraeters ;  he  could  tell  when  it  was  gwine  to  rain 
ever  since  he  was  as  high  as  that  table ;  '*  then,  put- 
ting on  the  most  consequential  look,  he  said  :  "  We 
are  used  to  all  them  sort  of  things.  We  had  a  splen- 
did telegram  on  top  of  the  house  that  we  used  to  look 
through  at  the  moon,  and  at  comets,  every  night  in  the 
year.  It  was  almost  entirely  brass,  and  Master  would 
never  let  anybody  clean  it  but  me,  so  in  that  way  I 
got  into  the  diameter  of  the  thing,  as  well  as  the  rest 
of  them.  I  tell  you,  Capting,  Ave  was  none  of  your 
common  folk.  And  yet,  what  you  think,  Mass 
Fitz,''  he  said,  turning  to  Fitz,  "  one  of  them  school- 
marms,  what  came  to  our  plantation  after  you  all  left, 
asked  me  (Jack  St.  Clair,  coachman  of  General  St. 
Clair)  if  I  knowed  who  made  me  ?  My  Lord !  I  felt 
rale  sorry  for  the  poor  ignorant  cretur,  that  she  had  n't 
any  better  sense  than  not  to  know  Ave  had  been 
hearing  preaching  once  a  Aveek  ever  since  Ave  was  made. 
She  got  rale  hopping  mad  Avith  me,  'cause  I  knoAved, 
and  AA'ould  not  give  me  a  sijigle  article  out  of  her 
'  bureau,'  as  she  called  the  place  AA'here  she  kept  pro- 
visions. I  thought  '  store-house '  Avould  have  been  a 
more  properer  name  for  a  place  they  kept  bacon  in, 
but  them  Yankees  is  the  most  comicalest  Avhite  folk  ever 
I  seed;  I  liA^ed  among 'em  three  years,  and  I  never  did 
git  to  rale  understand  them ;  as  to  them  school-mis- 
tresses, they  put  it  in  our  old  Avomen's  heads  they  AAas 
'titled  to  vote,   and  they  AA'ent,  fool-like,  and  did  it, 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  147 

and  some  of  them  got  locked  up  for  it  in  the  jail. 
Them  of  us  what  would  n't  let  in  to  them,  had  no 
kind  of  a  showing ;  but  Toney,  he  pretended  to  be  a 
rale  know-nothing,  and  'clar'd  he  never  had  heard 
nothing  about  nothing,  till  them  females  came  from 
!Xew  England  to  tell  him  ^bout  it.  So  they  fotched 
him  up  whenever  visitors  came,  to  tell  his  e'spereance. 
It  was  wonderful  to  hear  how  slick  he  would  rattle 
out  the  lies.  The  visitors  would  alTays  give  him 
something,  then  he  would  come  out  and  split  his  sides 
laugliing,  and  say  ^  the  old  gals  wor  a  sight  bigger 
fools  than  he  war.^  '^ 

Fitz,  at  first,  felt  exceedingly  annoyed  at  Uncle 
Jack's  loquacity ;  but  the  captain's  attempts  to  draw 
him  out,  and  the  hearty  laugh  with  which  every  story 
was  receiv^ed,  assured  him  the  old  man  had  an  inter- 
ested, and  greatly  amused  listener. 

"  All  on  board  ! ''  The  last  bell  rang.  "  Good-bye, 
^lass  Fitz,  —  the  Lord  in  heaven  bless  my  dead  mas- 
ter's child! ''and  the  faithful  old  servant  boo-hooed 
right  out.  "  Take  care  of  him,  Capting,  for  his  father 
died  a-taking  care  of  you,"  and  old  Uncle  Jack  left  the 
l)oat  with  his  bandana  up  to  his  eyes,  and  sobbing 
as  if  his  heart  would  break.  Fitz  stood  looking 
after  him  as  long  as  he  was  in  sight;  then  he  could 
control  his  feelings  no  longer,  and,  as  he  leaned  over 
the  rail,  his  tears  fell  into  the  water,  —  to  wipe  them 
away  would  attract  the  attention  he  wished  to  avoid. 
He  had  never  felt  so  lonely  and  desolate  in  all  his  life, 
going  out  into  the  wide  world  with  only  five  dollars* 


148  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

in  his  pocket.  As  the  whole-souled  captain  looked  at 
the  weeping  soldier's  boy,  about  to  be  exiled  from 
home  and  friends,  his  twinkling  black  eyes  grew  moist, 
and  he  blew  his  nose  vehemently,  to  account  for  using 
his  handkerchief.  There  is  sentiment  and  poetry  in 
everything  pertaining  to  the  sea,  and  if  it  were  not  so 
indigestible  to  me,  I  would  yield  it  my  unqualified 
allegiance. 

"  This  harbor  is  like  our  Confederacy,"  said  the 
captain,  addressing  Fitz,  —  "it  is  filled  with  wrecks. 
I  never  come  in  sight  of  our  battle-scarred  city,  that  I 
do  not  feel  sad. 

"  Poor  old  historic  Charleston,  sitting  in  ruins  on 
the  bosom  of  the  bay  !  how  many  lives  were  sacrificed 
in  her  defence.  Poor  in  everything  else,  she  is  rich  in 
glorious  memories,  and  has  a  record  of  which  we  need 
never  be  ashamed. 

"The  grandest  heroism  displayed  during  the  war 
was  right  here  in  this  harbor,  by  those  heroic  men  who 
went  in  the  torpedo-boat  to  sink  the  Housatonic.  Tak- 
ing their  lives  in  their  hands,  they  went  to  meet  death 
for  their  country.  Their  valor  was  superhuman,  and 
stands  forth  deified.  The  'marching  to  death'  of  the 
eight  hundred  British  soldiers,  on  board  the  transport- 
ship,  pales  before  this,  for  those  brave  men  only  antici- 
pated death  a  few  moments,  —  they  knew  it  was  inevi- 
table, and  there  was  no  escaping  their  destiny;  but  our 
men  went  from  the  security  of  home,  and  with  the 
prospect  of  long  lives  and  bright  futures,  and  delib- 
erately offered  themselves  a  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of 
their  countrv." 


',^46#^^^ 


x-^^ 


THE  TORPEDO  BOAT.—  Puge  148. 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  149 

"  Boy  !  boy  !  "  sliouted  a  voice  from  the  gangway. 

Fitz  had  Ibrgotten  until  now  that  he  was  "  boy," 
but  he  responded  to  tlie  summons  immediately. 

"  Stop !  "  said  the  captain,  —  "  let  me  see  what  is 
Manting,"  and  he  walked  forward,  and  held  a  short 
conversation,  in  an  under-tone,  with  the  steward;  and 
then  returnecl  to  Fitz. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  the  purser,  "  that  Captain  Tom 
had  t4X)  much  soul  to  make  a  cabin-boy  of  General  St. 
Clair's  son." 

'M  would  have  no  respect  for  him,  if  he  did,"  re- 
sponded the  steward.  Sailors,  hearts  are  always  as  large 
as  the  ocean  upon  which  they  live,  and  their  charity 
as  free  as  the  air  they  breathe. 

"  Captain,  I  am  waiting  orders,"  said  Fitz. 

"  All  right.  We  will  take  dinner  first,  and  then  I 
will  give  you  some  w^riting  to  do;  for  I  think  I  can 
make  vou  more  serviceable  with  your  pen  than  as  — 
as—" 

"  Boy,"  said  Fitz,  supplying,  with  a  smile,  the  word 
which  Captain  L.  could  not  bring  his  tongue  to  utter, 
in  connection  with  the  gentlemanly  lad  who  had  so 
completely  captivated  him.  "  Thank  you,  Captain,  I 
am  willing  to  do  anything  to  com})ensate  you  for  my 
passage."  He  knew  he  wrote  a  clear,  legible  hand,  and 
wiis  a  good  mathematician,  so  he  felt  confident  he  could 
give  satisfaction.  Again,  after  dinner,  he  reminded 
the  captain  that  he  was  idle. 

"  You  forget  that  Uncle  Jack  did  two  days'  work  for 
you,  Fitz.  To-morrow  your  new  duties  will  commence." 


150  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

The  second  morning  out,  Fitz  was  roused  by  the  in- 
cessant shriek  of  the  steam-wliistle,  and  upon  going  on 
deck  found  they  were  in  the  midst  of  a  fog.  The 
steamer  was  grojiing  its  way,  the  denseness  of  the  at- 
mosi^here  rendering  it  impossible  to  see  any  distance 
ahead,  and  there  was  imminent  danger  of  getting  on 
shoals.  The  captain  was  consulting  his  charts,  and  the 
sailors,  who  were  sounding,  called  out  the  depth  of 
water  every  few  minutes. 

"  How  much  like  this  vessel  I  am,"  soliloquized 
Fitz.  "  I  cannot  see  one  inch  farther  over  the  sea  of 
life  upon  which  I  am  sailing.  My  future  is  quite  as 
clouded ;  I  will  take  a  lesson  from  the  captain,  consult 
my  chart,  and  take  soundings  frequently,  lest  I  run 
ashore  and  be  lost.'^ 

He  wished  he  was  as  wise  as  the  captain.  Then  he 
remembered  the  storm  on  the  sea  of  Galilee,  when 
Christ  was  in  the  vessel,  and  his  heart  was  made  happy 
by  the  thought  that  he  could  always  have  Christ  with 
him,  and  hear  His  heavenly  voice  saying  to  the  turbu- 
lent billows  of  life,  "  Peace,  be  still.'^ 

He  wrote,  in  the  captain's  room,  a  few  hours  every 
day,  and  his  work  gave  the  greatest  satisfaction. 

On  the  third  morning  they  entered  Xew  York  Bay. 
It  was  a  bright,  cold,  bracing  morning.  The  panorama 
Fitz  now  gazed  on  for  the  first  time  was  beautiful  and 
full  of  interest.  The  passengers  were  all  on  deck. 
The  captain  told  him  the  names  of  the  diflPerent 
places  as  they  presented  themselves.  "  We  are  now,'' 
said  he,  "between  Staten  and  Long  Island;  there  is 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  151 

Fort  Ricliniond ;  tliore,  on  the  Lonjr  Island  sliorc,  is 
Fort  Hamilton.     That  old  red,  round  fort  is  Lafayette, 
where  I  spent  a  few  weeks  rusticating  during  the  war; 
in  the  distance  you  can  sec  Coney  Island,  Bedloe\s' 
Governor's,  Fort  Columbus ;  and  now  here  comes  the 
Empire  City.     That  is  Trinity  spire  looming  up,  and 
there  is  the  dome  of  the  City  Hall.''     A  playful  little 
craft,  Avith  spars  erect,  dashing   the  waves  from  her 
prow  and  flying  before  the  wind,  danced  past  them. 
Here  were  lofty  clippers,  merchantmen,  ships,  schoon- 
ers, barks,  yachts,  and  small  craft  of  every  description, 
and  the  wharves  were  full  of  busy  life.     Ferry-boats' 
cutting  glittering  furrows  in  the  dark  water,  glided 
between  the  larger  vessels,  and  went  to  and  from  the 
wharves  every  ten  minutes.     The  harsh  creaking  of 
the   crank   used  in   loading  and  discharging   cargoes 
added  to  the  noise  and  bustle,  which  was  bewildering. 
"There  is  a  great  deal  of  business  done  here,"  said 
Fitz  to  an  old  Dutchman,  who  was  standing  by  him. 
"Peesness!"    he    repeated,    contemptuously.       "I 
likesh  to  know  vat  you  call  peesness;  day  sheets  one 
anudder  from  morning  till  night,  and  tat  ish  vat  you 
calls  peesness,  I  sphose." 

"  You  don't  see  things  rushed  on  in  this  style  in 
your  slow  country,"  said  a  sleek-looking  individual, 
who  wore  a  shiny  beaver,  and  paper  terminations  to  his 
shirt.  "Even  the  rivers  deown  in  your  parts  are  too 
lazy  to  work,  and  go  dancing  along,  neither  moving 
machinery,  nor  turning  a  mill.  Real  aristocracy,  like 
your  people." 


152  FITZ-iiUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

"  How  do  you  know  anything  about  tlie  ways  of 
our  real  aristocracy,"  said  Fitz. 

"  Me  know  ?  Why,  I  have  been  down  there  on  a 
visit  to  my  son,  your  member  of  Congress,  Hon. 
Snooks  Mushroom  ;  of  course  you  know  him  ?  " 

*^  I  am  happy  to  say  I  do  not,"  said  Fitz,  indif- 
ferently. 

^'  Happy  you  do  not!  Why,  he  visits  the  first  peo- 
ple in  the  State,  black  and  white,  and  has  made  Mty 
thousand  dollars  clear  in  less  than  two  years.  Beat 
that  if  you  can,  young  man." 

"  I  don't  wish  to,  sir,"  said  Fitz,  walking  away 
from  him. 

They  had  stopped  at  the  wharf,  and  after  getting 
out  his  valise,  Fitz  went  to  say  good-bye  to  the  Cap- 
tain, but  found,  to  his  great  regret,  that  he  had  gone 
on  shore.  He  wrote  a  note,  thanking  him  for  his 
kindness,  and  left  it  upon  his  desk,  then  went  up  to 
the  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 

HUNTING   A   SITUATION. 

AND  now  he  was  indeed  alone.  In  all  that  seething 
city  he  knew  no  human  being.  After  depositing 
his  valise,  he  sallied  out  in  search  of  employment.  On 
the  hotel  steps  he  was  accosted  by  a  very  nice-looking 
young  man  about  his  own  age,  who  asked  him  if  he 
was  not  from  the  South. 

Fitz,  of  course,  said  he  was.  The  young  man 
seemed  delighted  to  hear  it,  and  claimed  to  be  a 
Southerner  himself,  who  had  been  fortunate  in  getting 
into  business,  and  he  assured  Fitz,  ^'  if  he  would  only 
keep  his  eyes  skinned,"  (a  feat  which  Fitz  looked  as 
if  he  did  not  exactly  comprehend  the  modus  operandi 
of  performing,)  he  would  soon  put  him  in  the  way  of 
making  money  like  dirt.  ^^  But  come,"  said  he,  ^^  and 
let  us  drink  to  this  new  friendship,"  at  the  same  time 
leading  the  way  into  an  elegant  building  right  in  front 
of  them. 

"Xo,  thank  you,"  said  Fitz;  "I  have  only  five 
dollars  iu  the  world,  and  have  come  here  to  try  and 

153 


154  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

earn  a  living  for  my  widowed  mother  and  my  little 
brothers  and  sisters.'^ 

"  Well,  come  in,  and  I  '11  stand  treat  this  time," 
said  the  young  man.  "  This  is  the  ^  Board  of  Trade 
Rooms/  a  magnificent  building,  you  see,  and  a  great 
blessing  to  the  city,  for  hundreds,  who  ^vould  on  no 
condition  go  into  a  common  bar-room,  come  here  with 
impunity  and  drink ;  even  members  of  the  church 
frequent  tliis  place.'' 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Fitz  ;  "  I  never  go  into  a  drink- 
ing-saloon,  no  matter  how  disguised,  or  by  what  name 
called.  My  father  used  to  say  that  ^  making  drinking 
respectable  was  the  best  card  the  devil  had  jilayed  in 
years.'  Rooms  like  these  are  ^  traps  of  satan '  to  be- 
guile unsuspecting  youth,  as  sure  as  you  are  born,  and 
this  union  of  trade  and  '  liquid  damnation '  must  have 
caused  a  shout  in  the  regions  of  the  lost.  But  for  my 
life  I  cannot  understand  what  comfort  it  will  be  to  a 
father  when  he  looks  into  the  coffin,  upon  the  bloated, 
loathsome  face  of  his  dead  son,  to  know  that  he  be- 
came a  drunkard  in  ^  mercantile  rooms,'  the  very 
rooms  in  which  his  vote  had  introduced  the  liquor 
that  had  damned  eternally  the  soul  of  the  once  noble 
boy  who  called  him  father.  I  believ^e  in  the  judgment, 
thousands  of  young  men  will  charge  their  eternal  un- 
doing to  the  merchants,  many  of  them  members  of  the 
church,  too,  who  hoodwinked  them  into  thinking  that 
there  was  no  harm  in  drinking,  if  you  only  did  so  in 
a  so-called  respectable  place." 

"Well,  Confed,  I  did  not  ask  for  a  sermon;  I 
wanted  a  drink." 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  155 

"  Which,  God  forbid,  I  should  give  you,  or  any  one 
else;  and  let  me  beg  you  to  quit  your  present  employ- 
ment, and  stop  making  drunkards.  I  would  rather 
wear  this  threadbare  suit,  the  rest  of  my  life,  than 
peril  one  immortal  soul.  Believe  me,  remorse  is  worse 
than  poverty." 

"  St.  Clair,  you  are  a  good  fellow,  and  I  have  a 
mind  to  tell  you  my  experience,  for  I,  too,  had  a  good 
father,  whom  I  lost  when  a  child.  By  his  dying 
request,  the  clergyman  of  the  church  to  which  he 
belonged  became  my  guardian ;  upon  his  table  I  saw 
liquor  daily,  so  I  lost  the  horror  my  father  had  instilled 
in  me  for  it.  My  reverend  guardian  drank  it  every 
day  (only  one  bottle  of  ale,  though),  and  ^  it  did  him 
no  harm,'  so,  in  my  childish  reasoning,  I  concluded  it 
w^as  harmless.  When  I  came  here  to  hunt  a  situation, 
the  keeper  of  the  bar  in  this  building  offered  me  the 
position  of  drummer  on  commission.  I  get  so  much 
a  customer  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,"  interrupted  Fitz,  "  you  mean  victim. 
So  much  a  soul ;  my  God,  what  a  terrible  traffic  you 
are  eno-aged  in  !  " 

"  Come,  now,  you  put  it  too  strong,  old  fellow." 

"  Too  strong  !  The  Bible  says,  '  He  that  converteth 
a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways  shall  save  a  soul 
from  death.'  What  does  he  do,  who  leads  a  soul  to 
death  —  spiritual,  eternal  death  ?  O  stop  it ;  it  is  only 
work  for  devils,  and  I  beseech  you  to  give  it  up. 
Good  morning." 

''  Rock  No.   1,"  said  Fitz.     ''  Thank  God  for  my 


156  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

precious  father's  instruction  and  example ;  but  for 
these,  I  would  have  been  no  stronger  than  that  poor, 
unfortunate  youth.  But  how  must  I  manage?  I  do 
not  know  one  street  from  another,  and  mother  warned 
me  about  making  acquaintances.  Here  comes  a  cler- 
gyman ;  I  know  by  the  dress.  I  will  ap2)ly  to  him 
for  advice.'' 

Fitz  found  him  very  bland,  and  seemingly  much 
interested  in  his  case.  He  invited  him  to  accompany 
him  to  his  office,  which,  he  said,  was  near  by,  and,  as 
it  was  a  quiet  place,  they  could  talk  undisturbed. 
Fitz  accompanied  him,  through  by-ways  and  side- 
streets,  quite  a  distance,  then  he  stopped  in  front  of  a 
green-baize  door,  which  the  gentleman  opened  and 
invited  Fitz  to  enter.  He  did  so,  but  on  looking 
round  could  not  forbear  saying :  ^^  Did  I  understand 
you  to  say  that  you  were  a  clergyman,  sir  ?  " 

^'Certainly."' 

Fitz  thought  the  apartment  furnished  very  singularly 
for  a  clergyman's  study.  There  Avere  roulette  tables, 
and  cards,  and  dice  scattered  around  on  smaller  tables. 

His  look  of  utter  surprise  being  noticed  by  his 
chance  acquaintance,  he  said  :  "  This  is  a  quiet  resort 
for  Christian  people  who  want  a  little  innocent  recrea- 
tion, and  don't  care  to  have  their  good  evil  spoken  of." 

^'  I  did  not  know  Christians  gambled,"  said  Fitz. 

"  It  is  not  exactly  gambling,  my  young  friend ; 
there  are  no  fortunes  wrecked  here,  nor  anything  of 
that  sort.  We  take  an  innocent  game  of  Seven-up, 
California  Jack,  or  some  other  simple  game,  and  bet  sl 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.   CLAIR.  157 

V  to  give  it  zest.  I  don't  care  if  we  take  a  game 
now,  for  I  feel  decidedly  Mondayish,  as  we  parsons 
phrase  it ; ''  and,  snatching  up  a  pack  of  cards,  he 
shuffled  them  with  such  dexterity,  Fitz  knew  he  was 
an  expert. 

"  I  never  play,"  said  Fitz,  refusing  to  cut,  ^^  and  do 
not  know  one  card  from  another.'' 

^*  Well,  sit  down,  and  I  '11  teach  you  in  five  min- 
utes." 

"  No,  thank  you  ;  I  left  my  home  for  a  very  dif- 
ferent purpose  than  to  learn  to  be  a  gambler.  Good 
morning." 

"  No  you  don't,  though,  ray  innocent  friend  ; 
whether  you  play  or  not,  you  pay  one  dollar's  admis- 
sion, so  you  might  as  well  get  your  money's  worth. 
Come,  we  will  take  a  game  without  betting.  I  really 
want  to  teach  you ;  it  is  such  a  harmless  way  to  spend 
an  evening.     Come,  this  is  —  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  know  what  it  is,  sir.  This  five- 
dollar  bill  —  taking  it  from  his  pocket  —  is  the  only 
money  I  have  in  the  world ;  take  your  pay  out  of  it, 
if  you  please,  and  let  me  go." 

As  he  handed  the  change,  Fitz  said  :  "  I  shall  enter 
it  in  my  expense-book  as  so  much  paid  for  experience." 

"  Well,  you  can  take  my  word ;  it  is  the  smallest 
amount  ever  paid  for  experience  in  this  shop." 

"  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  it,"  said  Fitz,  and  he 
bowed  himself  politely  out. 

*^  Rock  Xo.  2,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  reached  the 
street.  '^  I  only  avoided  Scylla  to  split  on  Chary bd is. 
14 


158  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

There  are  so  many  shoals,  how  will  I  be  able  to  steer 
clear  of  them  all  ?  ^^  It  was  nearly  dark ;  he  had 
eaten  nothing  since  he  left  the  steamer,  accomplished 
nothing  in  his  search  for  employment,  was  sick  and 
dispirited ;  so  he  went  to  the  hotel,  ordered  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  a  slice  of  bread,  paid  the  amount  his  check 
called  for  (thirty  cents),  and  went  into  the  reading- 
room  to  look  over  the  Southern  papers.  As  he  stood 
reading,  a  poor,  miserable,  half-starved  child  came  up 
and  begged  him  for  "a  penny  to  buy  some  bread.'' 
He  handed  her  ten  cents,  and  was  going  to  his  room, 
when  accosted  by  a  man  who  sat  near  the  door  smok- 
ing: a  bad  cio;ar. 

"  You  are  a  stranger  in  this  big  village,  I  guess  ?  " 
"  Yes,  sir ;  I  only  arrived  to-day." 
"  You  want  to  see  the  elephant,  of  course  ?  " 
"  No,  sir ;  I  came  here  to  try  and  earn  an  honest 
living,  if  it  is  possible,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh  ;  for,  by 
this  time,  he  had  begun  to  doubt  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible. 

"But  you  are  going  to  see  the  sights  before  you 
settle  down,  ain't  you  ?  Suppose  you  stand  treat  into 
the  circus;  there's  a  wonderful  show  there  to-night; 
some  of  the  most  beautiful  equestriennes  you  ever  set 
your  eyes  on ;  one  angelic  creature  with  golden  hair, 
and  only  sixteen.  You  treat  me  in,  and  after  the  show 
I  will  introduce  you  to  all  the  girls ;  that 's  fair,  ain't 
it?" 

"  Certainly ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  make  any  such 
acquaintances ;  I  never  go  to  the  circus." 


FITZ-nUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  159 

"  Never  go  to  the  circus?  What's  the  matter  with 
the  circus,  I  would  like  to  know?  " 

"  Excuse  me,  sir;  I  am  only  a  boy,  and  it  would  be 
very  presumjituous  in  me  to  enter  into  an  argument 
with  a  man  of  your  age.  My  father  taught  me  there 
was  a  moral  taint  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  circus,  that 
would  infect  a  pure  character.'' 

"  Do  you  mean,  you  puppy  you,  to  say  I  am  an 
impure  character?  "  at  the  same  time  jumping  up,  and 
raising  his  chair  over  Fitz's  head,  as  though  he  meant 
to  strike  him  down. 

Fitz  looked  him  right  in  the  eye,  and  said  :  "  You 
are  a  stranger  to  me,  sir,  and  I  know  nothing  of  your 
character,  good  or  bad ;  therefore  I  shall  not  go  with 
you  to  the  circus,  or  anywhere  else." 

"  Then  go  to  the  devil,"  the  bully  replied. 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it,"  said  Fitz,  earnestly. 

"Why  did  you  not  come  right  out,  and  tell  liim 
that  was  where  you  wanted  him  to  go  at  first,"  said  a 
dignified,  elegant-looking  gentleman,  who  had  been 
reading  in  their  immediate  vicinity,  and  was  obliged 
necessarily  to  hear  all  that  transpired.  Turning  to 
Fitz,  he  said :  "  You  have  been  singularly  fortunate 
in  your  training,  young  man,  and  it  is  well  for  you 
that  you  learned  how  to  say  no,  before  you  came  to 
this  Sodom." 

"You  had  better  mind  your  own  business,  gold 
spectacles ;  it  ain't  any  of  your  funeral,  and  I  would 
advise  you  to  dry-up,"  said  the  circus-champion, 
walking  away. 


160  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

The  next  morning,  when  Fitz  offered  one  of  the 
bills  the  gambler  had  given  him  in  payment  for  his 
breakfixst,  the  clerk  told  him  it  was  ^'counterfeit." 
He  then  handed  another.  "  Counterfeit,  too,  sir;"  and 
this  time,  both  the  tone  and  tlie  look  he  gave,  con- 
vinced Fitz  that  he  regarded  him  as  a  suspicious 
character.  The  position  was  a  novel  one,  and  exceed- 
ingly awkward.  He  handed  his  last  bill  with  a 
great  deal  of  hesitancy.  It  was  good ;  the  clerk  took 
it ;  but  the  disagreeable,  spiteful  fellow  could  not  for- 
bear saying :  ''  Look  here,  Confed,  you  seem  to  be 
doing  a  driving  business  in  bogus  money,  and  you  '11 
find  yourself  locked  up  if  you  don't  mind." 

"  I  got  it  in  your  city,"  said  Fitz. 

'^  Let  me  see  those  bills,  young  man,"  said  a  rich, 
deep  voice;  and  Fitz  looked  up,  to  meet  a  kind  look 
from  the  elegant  stranger  who  had  befriended  him  the 
night  before.  Fitz  handed  the  bills  to  him;  he 
looked  at  them  and  said,  "  Yes,  they  are  counterfeit." 

"  And  a  very  clumsy  counterfeit,  too,"  said  Magit, 
the  clerk. 

"  Yes,  he  would  n't  have  dared  to  pass  them  off  on 
you,  or  I,  or  any  other  rogue,"  said  Mr.  W.,  smiling ; 
*'  he  evidently  knew  his  customer." 

This  remark,  although  apparently  made  in  fun,  was 
understood  by  Magit  as  a  reproof,  and  he  tossed  the 
sheet  of  paper,  called  for  by  Mr.  AV.,  to  him  and 
turned  away. 

"  Do  you  know  from  whom  you  obtained  these 
bills  ?  "  asked  the  gentleman,  turning  to  Fitz. 


FITZ-UUOH    ST.    CLAIR.  161 

"Yes,  sir/'  said  Fitz. 

"  Then  come  with  me,  and  we  will  get  your  money 
back." 

He  held  in  his  hand  the  note  he  had  written ;  slip- 
ping it  into  an  envelope,  he  beckoned  the  policeman 
in  front  of  the  hotel  to  him,  and,  handing  him  the 
note  and  his  card,  said :  "  Go  with  this  young  man, 
and  see  that  he  gets  his  money.'' 

As  they  walked  away,  the  circus-champion,  who  had 
heard  the  whole  transaction,  walked  after  Fitz,  and 
said,  "  You  are  a  counterfeiter,  eh  ?  I  thought  as 
much.  You  terrible  good  people  always  have  some 
weak  point.     You  were  poisonous  pious  last  night. 

'Your  Lrown  side  was  up,  but  I  knew  that,  wlien  tried, 
We  would  fiud,  like  all  flounders,  you  were  white  on  one  side.' " 

Fitz  made  no  reply.  The  gambler  without  a  demur 
exchanged  the  bills  as  soon  as  he  read  the  order,  and 
expressed  a  great  deal  of  sorrow  "  that  the  mistake 
should  have  occurred,"  and  hoped  it  "would  not  inter- 
rupt their  friendship." 

Fitz,  only  too  glad  to  get  his  money,  made  no  reply; 
but  left,  and  again  went  in  search  of  employment,  with 
no  better  success  than  the  previous  day,  and  he  re- 
turned to  the  hotel  at  night  hungry,  foot-sore,  sad,  and 
discouraged.  He  prayed  earnestly  to  God  for  help, 
and  fell  asleep,  resolved  to  trust  his  heavenly  Father, 
no  matter  how  deep  the  discouragement. 

In  the  morning  he  awoke  refreshed  by  quiet  sleep 
and  pleasant  dreams;  his  heart  was  filled  with  grati- 
14*  L 


162  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

tilde,  for  he  remembered  who  it  was  wlio  "  givetli  His 
beloved  sleep/^  He  coukl  only  think  the  evening 
before  of  his  deep  distress;  but  this  night's  rest  had 
refreshed  him,  and  the  bright  morning  sun  dispelled 
the  gloom  that  had  settled  upon  his  spirits,  and  en- 
abled him  now  to  see  that  his  cup  had  been  a  mingled 
one,  and  not  all  bitter.  He  remembered  the  stranger- 
friend  who  had  come  so  unexpectedly  to  his  assistance, 
and  was  sorry  that  he  had  ever  distrusted  the  kind 
Providence  which  had  so  wondrously  interposed  in  his 
behalf.     He  resolved  in  future,  no  matter  what  the 

temptation, 

"To  lie  passive  in  God's  hands, 
And  know  no  will  but  His." 

In  this  pleasant  frame  of  mind,  he  went  down-stairs, 
feeling,  if  not  cheerful,  at  least  hopeful.  He  had  only 
money  enough  left  to  pay  for  the  lodging  he  had  al- 
ready enjoyed,  so  he  did  not  go  into  breakfast.  After 
paying  wiiat  he  owed,  he  asked  the  clerk  if  "  there 
was  any  position  in  the  hotel  he  could  get  to  earn  his 
board  until  he  could  find  employment  ? '' 

Magit  looked  contemptuously  at  him,  and  said,  "  I 
can  put  you  in  the  way  of  making  a  living,  if  you  will 
follow  my  advice.'^ 

"  What  would  you  advise  ?  "  asked  Fitz. 

"  Why,  that  you  exhibit  that  Secesh  suit  of  yours  ; 
and  I  ^11  indorse  that  it  was  an  heirloom  from  Father 
Noah  to  one  of  the  F.  F.'s  of  South  Carolina." 

"  Will  you  ?  "  said  Fitz,  —  a  blow,  which  knocked 
the  mummy-looking  fellow  from  his  seat,  accompanying 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  163 

his  question.  In  a  moment  he  regretted  being  be- 
trayed into  sucli  an  outburst,  but  the  manner,  and  the 
tone  of  the  fellow,  more  than  his  words,  had  been  so 
insulting,  that  he  lost  control  of  himself  entirely  until 
the  mischief  was  done. 

Walking  up  to  Magit,  who  was  wiping  his  bloody 
nose,  he  said,  "  I  am  sorry,  sir,  I  struck  you,  and  ask 
your  pardon.  I  asked  you  a  civil  question,  and  you 
exasperated  me  by  your  uncivil  answer;  but  I  am 
sorry  that  I  let  my  temper  get  beyond  my  control. ^^ 

"Don't  apologize  to  me,  you  scoundrel!  pay  up  your 
bill,  and  leave  this  hotel  in  five  minutes,  or  I  will  kick 
you  out  of  it.'' 

"No  you  won't,"  said  Fitz,  looking  him  right  in  the 
eye.  "  You  are  too  great  a  coward  to  fight  me.  You 
can  use  your  position  to  insult  me,  but  you  know  bet- 
ter than  to  touch  me."  Going  into  the  office,  he  walked 
up  to  the  proprietor,  and  without  any  circumlocution 
told  him  his  necessities,  and  asked  for  employment,  "if 
only  enough  to  earn  his  board." 

The  proprietor  -was  a  kind-hearted,  gentlemanly 
man,  and  Fitz's  straightforward,  candid  manner 
pleased  him.  He  told  him  "  he  regretted  there  was 
but  one  vacancy,  and  that  position  was  not  w^orthy  of 
him,  as  it  was  only  to  check  cloaks,  umbrellas,  satchels, 
etc.,  in  the  umbrella-room.  The  duties  are  confining, 
but  not  arduous,  and  the  salary  is  a  mere  trifle ;  but 
you  can  have  it,  until  you  can  do  better.  Five  dollars 
a  week  and  board  is  better  than  nothing." 

Fitz  was  overjoyed  ;  happier  than  he  had  felt  since 


164  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

he  left  home,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  enter  at  once 
upon  his  duties.  In  the  same  office  with  him  was  a 
highly  educated  young  German,  the  son  of  a  German 
professor.  Fitz  had  studied  German,  and  could  read 
it  tolerably  well,  but  had  never  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  hearing  it  spoken  by  a  native.  His  Teutonic  friend 
was  only  too  well  pleased  to  agree  that  "  German  should 
be  the  language  used  in  their  intercourse."  They  read 
together  Goethe,  Schlegel,  and  Richter;  and  Fitz  found 
that,  with  a  few"  months'  constant  practice,  he  could 
converse  with  ease  —  almost  with  fluency.  He  had 
also  enjoyed  another  advantage  in  being  privileged  to 
take  a  thorough  course  of  book-keeping,  from  one  of 
the  best  professors  in  America,  who  also  taught  him 
short-hand.  To  pay  for  the  instruction  received  in 
these  branches,  he  assisted  the  professor  in  writing  up 
the  books  of  merchants,  which  exercise  in  itself  was  of 
incalculable  service  to  him.  So  in  taking  an  inven- 
tory, after  being  in  New  York  six  months,  he  found  he 
had  been  able  to  board  in  a  nice  hotel,  become  master 
of  the  German  language,  learn  bookkeeping  and  short- 
hand, and  send  his  mother  four  dollars  a  week  regu- 
larly. 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  paid  eight  dollars  a  month  for  rent ; 
then  fuel  had  been  so  high ;  she  sewed  incessantly,  but 
receiv'cd  a  mere  pittance  for  her  work,  and,  as  she  had 
no  machine,  could  accomplish  but  little.  Until  her 
last  letter  she  had  written  sadly,  and  almost  despond- 
ently ;  but  a  ray  of  sunsliine  had  crossed  her  path  when 
Fitz  heard  from  her  last.     A  home  for  ^'  Confederate 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  165 

widows  "  liad  been  established,  and  she  had  two  rooms 
free  of  rent.  In  the  parlor  of  this  "home"  was  a 
piano,  npon  which  she  gave  Rena  lessons  daily.     And 

better  than  all,  the  blisses  B ,  those  elegant  and 

refined  Christian  teachers,  had  returned  from  Europe, 
and,  greatly  to  the  delight  of  all  who  knew  them  per- 
sonally or  by  reputation,  had  resumed  their  duties  as 
teachers  in  the  city,  where  they  were  so  loved  and  hon- 
ored. Mrs.  St.  Clair  wrote :  "  Miss  Agnes  came  im- 
mediately to  see  me,  in  my  little  out-of-the-way  room, 
and  ^  was  so  glad  Rena  was  not  going  to  school.'  She 
*  was  so  anxious  to  educate  her,'  and  begged  the  privi- 
lege in  her  own  inimitable  way  so  sweetly,  that  we  felt 
really  that  we,  and  not  they,  were  the  generous  ones. 
Rena  is  so  delighted  too  with  their  charming  school, 
and  her  teacher  friends.  Life  has  a  zest  to  it  for  her 
now,  it  had  lost,  I  feared,  forever.  I  cannot  be  too 
grateful ;  and  I  pray  God  it  may  be  long  before  the 
girls  of  the  South,  (who  now,  more  than  ever,  need 
the  stimulating  and  elevating  influence  of  those  accorn- 
jilished  and  elegant  ladies,)  shall  be  deprived  of  the 
benefits  of  their  model  institute.'' 

Fitz  was  delighted  with  the  good  news  imparted  in 
his  mother's  letter,  and  felt  encouraged.  Professor 
Blot  promised,  in  the  fall,  to  obtain  a  situation  for  him 
as  a  bookkeeper,  so  he  delved  on  uncomplainingly. 
One  great  privation  he  suffered  was  in  not  being  able 
to  attend  church.  There  was  no  difference  between  his 
weekday  and  his  Sabbath  duties ;  and,  in  replying  to 
his  mother's  inquiries  as  to  his  religious  enjoyments, 
he  had  asked,  with  Milton, 


166  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  Does  God  require  day-labor,  light  deiiied  ?  " 

To  which  she  replied : 

"My  Dear  Son: 

"  You  comphiin  that  the  circumstances  by  which  you 
are  surrounded  are  unfavorable  to  a  religious  growth. 

"Being  deprived  of  religious  companionship,  and 
not  being  permitted  to  go  to  the  house  of  prayer,  are 
certainly  causes  of  deep  regret;  but  hold  fast  your  in- 
tegrity ;  do  not  become  discouraged ;  for  God  is  not 
confined  to  times  or  places. 

"'A  thoiigand  ways  has  Providence 
To  bring  His  children  home.' 

"  My  experience  teaches  me  it  takes  less  fortitude  to 
do  than  to  suifer  God's  will. 
"  To  your  question, 

" '  DQ,es  God  require  day -labor,  light  denied  ? ' 

I  reply  in  the  words  of  the  questioner : 

"  '  Thousands  at  his  bidding  speed, 

And  post  o'er  land  and  water  without  rest. 
They  also  serve,  who  only  stand  and  wait.' 

"  I  think  both  you  and  I  might  derive  comfort  from 
the  hymn  Harry  and  Clara  are  now  singing  so  sweetly 
at  my  side : 

"  *  We  shall  not  always  labor, 
We  shall  not  always  sigh  ; 
We  will  lay  our  heavy  l^urdens  down ; 
There  is  resting  by-and-by.' 

"  I,  too,  become  restless,  Fitz,  and  exclaim,  ^  How 
long?  O  God,  how  long?'  but  only  ^to  those  who 
endure'   is   the   promise   given.     Our   poor,  smitten, 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  167 

afflicted  family  have  too  many  tics  to  bind  us  to  'the 
bright  world  beyond,'  to  relax  our  efforts,  even  for  a 
moment.  Pray  much,  my  son,  and  the  jovs  of  '  Je- 
rusalem the  golden  '  will  repay  a  thousand-fold  for  the 
hardships  endured  on  the  pilgrimage. 

"I  have  just  returned  from  the  funeral  of  poor 
Frank  I.c  Brue-e,  who  left  us  last  Sabbath  evening,  at 
the  going  out  of  the  tide,  'aged  twenty-three.' 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  the  dark  cloud  of 
skepticism  and  unbelief  that  has  shrouded  his  soul, 
ever  since  he  was  informed  of  the  sad  circumstances 
of  Eva's  brutal  murder,  was  rolled  away,  and  his  sun 
sank  beneath  a  cloudless  sky  to  rest.  For  months  he 
was  in  the  lowest  abyss  of  despair.  His  was  a  com- 
plete insolvency  of  the  heart.  Life  was  an  intolerable 
burden,  and  yet  he  prayed  to  live.  To  avenge  his 
wife's  murder,  he  sought  oblivion  in  drink,  and  it  was 
terrible  to  hear  one  brought  up  as  he  was,  sneer  at  the 
mercy  of  a  God,  who  allowed  a  brutal  soldiery  to  drag 
from  her  bed  a  gentle,  young  creature  in  the  pangs  of 
child-birth,  and  leave  her  to  die  in  the  streets  at  mid- 
night, on  the  cold  earth.  It  was  an  aggravated  case 
of  brutality,  and  when  we  consider  his  devotion  to 
Eva  from  childhood,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at 
that  reason  w^as  for  a  while  dethroned.  You  would 
hardly  have  recognized  in  the  haggard,  pale  misan- 
thrope the  high-born,  elegant  young  man,  who  so 
gracefully  bore  off  the  honors  of  the  class  of  18G1. 
1  never  knew  brighter  hopes  brought  to  confusion 
than  in  the  case  of  this  young  couple. 

"  A  few  weeks  before  he  died,  as  I  took  some  pho- 
tographs I  had  colored,  back  to  Mr.  De  Veux's  studio, 
my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  large  box  the  express- 
wagon  had  just  left.     Mr.  D said  to  me,  'that  is 

the  three-quarter  length  portrait  of  the  beautiful  Eva 
Legare,  Frank  Le  Bruce's  poor  murdered  wife ;  it  has 


168  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

been  stored  in  Augusta.  The  family  have  never  seen 
it.  I  took  the  outlines  immediately  after  the  war 
commenced,  and  was  then  compelled  to  move  up  to 
Georgia.  Eva  sat  to  me  while  there  on  a  visit,  and  I 
have  a  remarkably  fine  picture.' 

"  It  struck  me  that  a  sight  of  the  face  of  his  lovely 
child-wife  might  possibly  produce  a  good   effect  on 

Frank  ;  so  I  asked  Mr.  I) if  he  *  would  allow  me 

the  undisturbed  possession  of  the  room  for  one  hour 
in  the  morning.'  My  request  was^  of  course,  granted, 
and  I  called  at  Mr.  Le  Bruce's.  The  dear  old  people 
were  going  with  sorrow  to  the  grave,  because  of  the 
sad  condition  of  Frank,  both  mentally  and  physically. 
*  He  was  failing  rapidly,'  his  mother  said,  then  added, 
^  he  is  our  only  child  ;  but  we  have  seen  him  suffer 
such  agony  of  mind,  that,  if  it  would  please  God  to 
enlighten  the  dark  labyrinth  of  his  soul,  and  make 
him  once  more  a  believer,  I  should  lay  him  in  the 
grave  without  a  murmur.' 

"  When  informed  that  '  I  wished  to  see  him,'  he 
arose,  made  his  toilet,  and  came  into  the  parlor,  look- 
ing so  weird  and  weary,  I  could  scarcely  control  my 
feelings. 

"  When  I  was  about  to  leave,  I  asked  him  ^if  he 
would  not  accompany  me  to  an  artist's  studio,  where 
I  was  going  to  get  some  coloring  to  do  ? ' 

"  He  looked  at  me  steadily  for  a  moment,  a  bitter 
smile  came  over  his  chiselled  features,  his  lip  curled, 
and  he  said,  cynically,  '  You  want  me  to  go  with  you 
to  hunt  work,  do  you?  Yes,  I  will  go;  we  are  fel- 
low-suiferers,  victims  of  God's  mercy.  Your  brave, 
noble  husband  was  killed,  your  home  stolen  from  you 
by  your  Government,  even  your  very  bed  taken  from 
under  you  and  given  to  negroes,  and  no  redress,  be- 
cause the  rulers  placed  over  us  are  those  of  whom  Job 
says,  "  Their  fathers  I  would  not   have  sit  with  the 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  169 

dogs  of  my  flock ;  '^  and  liore  you  are,  poor,  little,  del- 
icate woman,  begging  work  from  door  to  door.  And, 
yet,  you  undertake  to  talk  to  me  about  "  the  justice 
and  mercy  of  God,  an  Overruling  Providence,"  and 
all  that  kind  of  cant.  Xo,  my  dear  friend,  Voltaire 
is  right :  "  The  world  is  a  vast  field  of  carnage,  and 
in  man  there  is  more  wretchedness  than  in  all  the  other 
animals  put  together;  he  spends  the  transient  mo- 
ments of  his  existence  in  cutting  the  throats  of  his 
lei  low-creatures  for  pay,  and  in  cheating  and  being 
cheated.  The  bulk  of  mankind  are  nothing  more 
than,  a  crowd  of  wretches.  I  wish  I  had  never  been 
born."  1  indorse  him  from  my  soul,'  he  said,  w^ith 
great  earnestness.  I  put  my  hands  upon  his  throbbing 
temples,  and  said  :  '  You  only  think  you  do,  dear  boy, 
but  you  do  not.  You  and  I  suffer,  and  our  eyes  are 
so  full  of  tears  we  cannot  see  earth's  beauty  through 
them.  Through  my  widow's  veil  all  is  gloom;  but 
when  I  throw  it  aside  and  look  up  into  the  heavens, 
where  my  treasures  are,  I  tread  earth  lightly.  Look 
up,  Frank ;  God  is  good.  '^  He  keeps  a  niche  in  heaven 
for  all  our  idols,  though  he  breaks  them  to  our  face.'^ 
What  matters  it  to  them,  now  that  the  messenger  he 
sent  to  convey  them  to  their  home  in  the  skies  was  a 
stern  one  ?  The  pang  was  short,  but  oh,  the  joys  to 
which  it  introduced  them.  Man  had  no  pity;  but 
the  blow  they  dealt  laid  our  martyred  dead  in  the 
loving  arms  of  our  pitying  Saviour.  They  wear  no 
blood-stained  garments  in  the  bright  and"^  beautiful 
world  where  they  have  gone.' 

"'Only  just  across  the  river 

Are  the  dear  ones  we  loved  so ; 
Clad  in  pure  and  spotless  garments, 

Whiter  far  than  whitest  snow. 
TIkv  have  plunged  cold  Jordan's  billow, 
They  have  passed  through  Death's  alarms; 
15 


170  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

Xow  they  are  free  from  every  sorrow, 
In  the  Saviour's  loving  arius.' 

"^God  has  permitted'  all  that  has  befallen  us^  and 
like  Henrietta  Maria,  let  us  '  submit.' 

"  When  we  entered  the  artist's  studio,  the  briu^ht 
rays  of  the  sun  shining  through  the  windows  played 
upon  the  golden  curls,  and  lighted  up  the  marvellously 
beautiful  face,  until  the  picture  seemed  life-like,  and 
Eya  —  loying,  gentle  Eva  —  stood  there,  Avaiting  to 
welcome  her  poor,  heart-broken  husband. 

"  When  Frank  saw  the  picture,  he  uttered  an  inde- 
scribable groan ;  then,  with  clasped  hands,  he  fell  on 
his  knees  before  it,  and  in  tones  of  agony  which  I  can 
never  forget,  cried  out,  ^  Spirit  of  my  murdered  wife ! 
have  you  come  back  from  your  bright  home  in  the 
skies  to  chide  me  for  so  long  allowing  your  murder  to 
go  unavenged?  Oh,  pity  me!  and  tell  me  what  de- 
mon committed  the  hellish  deed,  that  I  may  know 
where  to  strike.  Vengeance !  vengeance !  only  give 
me  yengeance,  O  my  God !  for  the  burning  desire  is 
consuming  me.'  And  putting  his  handkerchief  to  his 
mouth,  it  was  soon  crimsoned  with  his  life-blood. 

"  Kneeling  by  him,  I  said,  '  Vengeance  is  mine,  saith 
the  Lord.'  Eva  has  not  come  to  counsel  vengeance, 
Frank,  but  to  lure  you  back  into  the  path  of  right. 
You  have  wandered  far  from  her,  and  from  God,  and 
unless  you  return,  and  He  have  mercy  upon  you, 
throughout  the  never-ending  ages  of  eternity  you  will 
be  separated  from  your  wife,  and  forever  shut  up  with 
her  murderers  in  the  abode  of  the  lost.  Can  you  recon- 
cile yourself  to  the  dreadful  thought,  Frank  ?  ' 

*'He  turned,  and  looked  at  me;  I  saw  tlie  spell  was 
broken — the  demon  exorcised.  He  was  weeping  tears 
of  penitence.  I^ooking  up  at  Eva,  he  said :  ^  My 
guardian  angel,  you  have  saved  me.  By  the  grace  of 
God,  I  shall  meet  you  in  heaven.     O  my  spirit -bride ! 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  171 

come  soon,  for  I  am  so  weary.'  Then  laying  lii.s  head 
upon  a  chair  near  by,  he  wept  the  biirnin;^,  tender  tears 
tliat  make  the  heart  better. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  thankful  I  felt  that  he  was 
aroused  to  a  sense  of  his  condition.  I  knew  the  peni- 
tent sinner  would  find  mercy  from  his  forgiving 
Saviour;  but  the  enemy  of  souls  did  not  give  up  his 
victim  without  a  struggle  —  a  fierce  contest  had  to  be 
waged  with  the  powers  of  darkness,  before  he  came 
through  Into  the  light.  Two  weeks  before  he  died, 
every  doubt  was  removed ;  and  he  was  unsi)eakably 
happy  m  the  assurance  that  his  sins  were  all  forgiven, 
Ills  Saviour  reconciled,  and  a  home  in  heaven  made  sure 
through  the  mediation  of  Christ.  I  visited,  and  sang 
for  him  every  day,  ^Jerusalem  the  Golden,'  ^  Shall  we 
gather  at  the  River,'  ^  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  Soul,'  and 
'Rock  of  Ages.' 

"  The  afternoon  he  died,  as  we  stood  weeping  around 
the  bed  where  he  lay  unconscious,  dying,  he  raised  him- 
self, opened  his  great,  glorious  eyes,  —  which  we  had 
supposed  forever  closed  upon  earthly  things,  —  and 
stretching  his  arms,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  rapture  of  de- 
light, *Eva!  my  precious  wife!'  and  fell  back,  dead. 
The  severed  ones  had  met. 

"  Thank  God, 

"'Earth  has  no  sorrow  that  heaven  cannot  cure.' 

"  Let  us  never  give  up  our  confidence,  my  son,  for 
it  hath  great  recompense  of  reward.  If  you  are  pre- 
vented from  going  to  the  sanctuary,  you  can  obtain  a 
blessing  anywhere  in  the  path  of  duty.  A  whispered 
])rayer  will  arrest  the  attention  of  the  Almighty, 
tJiough  it  go  up  from  your  place  of  business.  It  Is  a 
powerful,  all-con(juerIng,  safe  weapon  ;  keep  It  bright 
with  use;  never  sheathe  it,  for  you  can  only  enter 
heaven  bv  it.  Your  Mother." 


CHAPTER  Xyill. 


RESISTING    TEMPTATION. 


A  FEW  weeks  after  receiving  this  letter  from  his 
mother,  as  Fitz  sat  writing,  the  night-watch  of 
the  hotel  came  to  him,  and  said :  "  Mister  St.  Clair : 
My  uncle  died  last  night,  and  is  going  to  give  a  wake 
to-night,  which  I  would  like  to  attind ;  and  I  came  to 
see  if  I  could  not  make  a  bargain  with  you.  I  will 
take  your  place,  and  let  you  go  to  church  to-morrow, 
if  you  will  take  my  place,  and  watch  the  hotel  to-night." 

"I  should  be  delighted  to  do  it,  if  the  landlord 
agrees,"  said  Fitz ;  "  go  and  ask  him."  Fitz  was  so 
overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  any  arrangement  by  means 
of  which  he  could  get  to  attend  church  once  more, 
that  he  threw  down  his  pen,  and  went  with  Pat  into 
the  office. 

*^  I  have  no  objection  in  the  Avorld,"  said  Mr.  L., 
when  asked.  "I  am  going  to  Springfield  this  after- 
noon, and  shall  sleep  sounder  from  a  knowledge  of  the 
fact  that  you  are  guarding  the  hotel ;  for  my  trust  and 

confidence  in  vou,  Fitz,  is  implicit." 

172 


FITZ-nUCill    ST.    CLAIR.  173 

*'  Tluink  you,  sir,"  said  Fitz.  "  I  liopc  I  shall  al- 
Avavs  be  -svorthy  of  your  good  opinion." 

All  nio:lit  long,  as  Fitz  paced  the  broad  passages, 
lie  thought  of  the  happy  Sabbath  that  was  soon  to 
dawn  for  him,  and  then  sad  memory  brought  up 
another  Sabbath,  on  a  gory  battle-field,  and  a  dying 
father,  whose  remains  were  still  far  from  his  native 
State ;  and  he  was  beginning  to  question  again,  when 
his  mother's  advice  c;ime  to  him,  and  he  resolved  to 
"wait  for  eternity  to  explain  the  hidden  things  of 
time."  So  he  walked  and  thought,  until  the  long- 
desired  morning  dawned,  and  he  was  once  again  to 
spend  a  Christian  Sabbatii  in  a  Christian  manner. 

The  morning  was  dark,  and  quite  chilly  for  May, 
but  Fitz  did  not  observe  the  weather,  for  the  fact  that 
he  was  going  to  worship  God  in  His  own  sanctuary 
banished  all  gloom. 

The  bells'  inviting  chime  had  never  sounded  upon 
more  eager  ears.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go  to 
"the  church  of  the  strangers,"  for  the  pastor,  (l^esides 
being  the  especial  friend  of  all  unfortunate  exiles, 
who,  like  himself,  were  banished  by  stern  necessity 
from  their  homes,  and  were  seeking  a  livelihood  in 
that  great  centre  of  the  world,)  was  a  personal  friend 
of  his  father,  and  he  knew  would  befriend  him  for  his 
father's  sake.  Tlie  day  was  to  be  an  era  in  his  life ; 
the  dawn  of  a  brighter  future,  he  felt  certain. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  holiday,  St. 
Clair?"  asked  one  of  the  clerks  of  Fitz.  "Smith, 
iirown,  and  myself  are  going  to  have  a  good  time  at 


174  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

High,  Low,  Jack,  and  the  Game.  Come  and  join  us, 
do.  We  liave  a  bottle  of  Cognac  and  some  real  old 
Monongahcla,  and  intend  to  drive  dull  care  away,  at 
least  for  to-day." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Fitz ;  ^'  I  have  an  engage- 
ment." 

*'  Oh,  break  it,"  said  the  young  man,  pleasantly, 
"  for  you  have  had  the  most  tread-mill  existence  since 
you  came  to  this  hotel.  Give  yourself  a  little  pleas- 
ure, do.  '  All  work  and  no  play,'  you  know,  ^  makes 
Jack  a  dull  boy.'  " 

'^  I  am  neither  going  to  work  nor  to  play  to-day. 
Wilson,  it  is  the  holy  Sabbath  day,  and  I  am  going 
to  try  and  '  keep  it  holy.'  " 

Wilson  looked  at  him  steadily,  and  said  :  '^  Ah,  my 
boy,  I  used  to  do  some  business  in  that  line  myself 
once,  but  I  found  it  did  n't  pay.  Christian  people, 
so  called,  are  the  hardest  peoi)le  I  ever  had  any  deal- 
ings with.  When  I  was  pious,"  (and  he  laughed 
derisively  at  the  bare  recollection  of  it,)  "  one  of  the 
deacons  in  the  church  set  me  up  in  a  small  business, 
involving  only  about  twelve  hundred  dollars.  I  was 
very  younp;  and  '*-2pulsive,  and  saw  in  it  only  an  act 
of  great  Christian  liberality.  I  spoke  the  praises  of 
my  benefactor  to  everybody,  i}x\d  he  told  his  disinter- 
ested act  too,  far  and  wide.  Our  minister  made  a 
sermon  from  it,  and  took  his  text,  ^Bear  ye  one  an- 
other's burdens.'  In  this  sermon  he,  without  calling 
names,  referred  so  beautifully  to  '  the  Christian  mer- 
chant, who  could,  from  his  commercial  pinnacle,  stoop 


FITZ-IIUGH     ST.    CLAIR.  175 

and  lend  a  liclping  hand  to  a  young  and  struggling 
brother,'  that  every  one  unconseiously  turned  toward 
the  pew  where  the  George  Peabmly  of  the  congregation 
sat,  drinking  it  all  in.  Do  you  remember  the  con- 
trasted figures  the  bitters  men  use  to  advertise  their  nos- 
trums —  ^  the  look  at  this,'  and  *  look  at  that '  ?  Well, 
while  this  highly  laudatory  sermon  was  being  listened 
to,  I  felt  that  to  the  congregation  I  represented  the 
Mook  at  this' man,  to  Mr.  Goody's  Mook  at  that'; 
however,  let  that  go  for  what  it  is  worth.  Suffice  it 
to  say,  I  worked  hard,  fared  hard,  slept  over  my  store  ; 
but  I  was  building  up  a  new  business,  and  it  was  all 
up-hill  work.  In  six  months,  my  generous  bene- 
factor, having  more  than  doubled  his  investment  by 
the  advertisement  his  generosity  had  giv^en  him,  polite- 
ly informed  me  that  ^  he  had  immediate  use  for  the 
capital  he  had  loaned  me,  with  the  interest ;  he  must 
have  the  last  cent,'  he  said,  ^immediately.'  I  was 
horror-struck.  To  w^ithdraw  my  entire  capital,  would 
be  the  ruin  of  me !  I  exj^ostulated,  remonstrated, 
entreated ;  but  he  was  inexorable.  The  Christian 
Shylock  would  have  nothing  short  of  the  pound  of 
flesh.  I  could  not  borrow  the  money  from  any  other 
])arty,  for  they  insinuated  ^something  must  be  wrong, 
or  that  pious,  good  man,  would  not  withdraw  his  as- 
sistance;' so  they  set  themselves  to  W'Ork  to  discover  a 
cause.  I  had  worked  night  and  day,  and  starved 
myself  to  a  skeleton ;  so  they  darkly  hinted  '  I  was 
drinking  myself  to  death,  only  see  how  haggard  I 
looked.'     Poor  Mr.  Goody  !  they  hoped  he  would  not 


176  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIU. 

suffer  too  deej^ly  for  his  misplaced  benevolence  ;  and, 
only  to  think,  he  was  ^such  a  Christian  ;  he  neitlier  ac- 
cused, nor  abused  me,  but  remained  silent  whenever  my 
affairs  were  referred  to.'  Well,  to  make  a  long  story 
short,  I  was  sold  out  in  the  heat  of  summer,  when 
business  was  dead.  My  stock  was  bought  in  by  my 
creditor,  wlio  was  in  the  same  line  of  business,  for  less 
than  one-half  I  had  paid  him  for  the  goods  at  whole- 
sale, and  my  store  was  shut  u]),  my  reputation  blasted, 
mv  credit  gone,  —  v>'hile  Mr.  Goody,  with  a  look  of 
long-suffering  resignation,  received  the  sympathy  of 
the-  church  and  community,  and  our  beloved  pastor 
preached  from  the  text,  *  If  thine  enemy  sin  against 
thee  seventy  times  seven,  forgive  him.'  Formidable 
enemy,  T,  poor  wretch,  was.  Well,  I  left  that  town 
and  that  church,  and  I  have  never  been  in  a  church 
since,  and  I  never  mean  to,  if  I  keep  my  senses,  for, 
I  tell  you.  Christian  people  (so  called)  are  a  hard  set. 
Thev  use  their  profession  as  a  cloak  for  their  rascality, 
and  are,  one  and  all  of  them,  so  intolerant,  that,  if 
the  Saviour  were  back  upon  earth,  he  could  not  be 
retained  as  pastor  of  one  of  the  churches  who  profess 
to  have  Christ  as  their  head." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Fitz. 

"  Why,  in  the  first  place,  if  he  was  rector  of  tliat 
eleir^nt  church  over  there,  he  would  not  want  Marv 
Magdalene  snubbed  when  she  came  in,  and  made  to 
sit  in  thrit  dark  back  pew  against  the  wall. 

"And  if  he  were  preaching  in  that  church,"  point- 
ing to  another,    "  he  would  have  to   be  exceedingly 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CI.  AIR.  177 

cautious,  and  not  hint  at  stealinj^,  for  all  the  officials 
have  failed  full-handed,  and  live  by  the  sharp  practice. 
There  is  no  use  talkin*;,  the  meek  and  lovin*^  Jesus 
could  find  no  fellowship  with  the  Christians  of  this 
day,  who  are  bitin^^  and  devouring  every  poor  wretch 
they  can  get  in  their  power.  I  have  had  my  fingers 
burnt,  and  I  keep  shy  of  them  ;  and  I  advise  you  to 
take  warning  by  my  example,  and  keep  away  from 
churches  and  church-members.'^ 

*^  AVilson,  you  are  inconsistent.  You  tried  one 
church,  and  were  disappointed,  and  never  intend  to  try 
another.  AVhy  did  you  not  act  the  same  way  about 
your  place  of  residence  ?  you  did  not  give  up  trying 
towns,  because  you  were  disappointed  in  one  town. 
You  have  been  disappointed  in  one  man,  but  you  have 
not  lost  faith  in  all  men.  Plave  you  ever  trusted  the 
blessed  Saviour,  and  been  disappointed  ?  and  yet  you 
have  given  Him  up,  because  a  Judas  betrayed  him.  i\Iay- 
be  that  was  the  reason  why  the  disciples  ^  forsook  Him 
and  fled : '  the  argument  would  hold  as  good  for  them 
as  for  you.  Because  one  church-member  out  of  twelve 
is  a  hypocrite,  does  that  prove  religion  false  and  Christ 
an  impostor?  Christ  himself  told  us,  that  ^  not  every 
one  that  said  unto  him.  Lord,  Lord,  would  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,'  but  only  they  wdio  did  the 
will  of  his  Father  who  was  in  heaven.  We  are  not 
left  to  judge  blindly,  or  to  take  as  Christian  examples 
people  whose  ungodly  acts  prove  them  hypocrites. 
We  have  an  example  left  us ;  let  us  follow  Him  *  who 
was  tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  yet  without 

M 


178  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

sin.'  And  it  is  unkind  and  uni^cnerous  to  select  the 
only  traitor  in  the  college  of  apostles  as  a  type  of  the 
followers  of  Christ.  But  I  must  go  now  and  get  ready 
for  church/'  said  FItz,  looking  down  at  his  threadljare 
suit. 

"  St.  Clair,  look  here  ;  I  was  hunting  for  you.  AVe 
are  going  on  an  excursion,  and  you  must  go  with  us; 
I  am  so  glad  you  are  off  duty,"  said  a  young  clerk, 
coming  up  and  taking  hold  of  Fitz. 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  have  an  engagement,"  said  Fitz; 
"and,  if  you  will  excuse  me  for  being  so  abrupt,  I 
must  go  at  once,  and  prepare  for  it." 

'^  O  Fitz,  how  mean  of  you  !  ^Ye  are  going  up  the 
Hudson,  witli  a  band  of  music,  pleasant  company,  re- 
freshments of  all  kinds,  and  anticipate  a  glorious  day. 
Do  come ! " 

^^I  cannot.  Bob;  and  you  must  not  detain  me,  for  I 
am  in  a  great  hurry,"  said  Fitz,  walking  quickly  away. 

"Meester  Sin  Clare  I  Meester  Sin  Clare  !  "  shouted 
Pat ;  "  come  heere,  will  you  ?  Here  's  a  man,  bad  luck 
to  him,  who  laves  his  umbrelly  and  wants  to  carry  the 
check  away  with  him,  when  yourself  tould  me  the 
check  was  to  be  slip-knotted  on  to  the  umbrelly." 

"  Yes,  Pat ;  but  I  told  you  the  duplicate  was  to  be 
given  to  wdioever  deposited  anything." 

"  Duplicate  !  and  what 's  them  ?  Shure,  you  left  me 
nothing  at  all,  at  all,  but  checks  —  two  of  aich  kind." 

It  took  Fitz  some  time  to  f^-o  over  a<2:ain  the  direc- 
tions  to  Pat,  but  he  went  through  it  patiently;  and 
again  hurried  to  liis  room,  where  he  brushed  his  thread- 
bare coat  and  made  his  toilet. 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  179 

He  was  entirely  ignonint  of  localities,  and  had  gone 
up  into  the  passage  to  consult  the  church  directory,  — 
Avhich  always  hung  there  on  Sunday,  —  when  Magit 
met  him,  and,  as  usual,  had  something  disagreeable 
to  say. 

"  Why,  F.  F.,  what  are  you  doing  up  here  ?  you 
surely  are  not  going  out  in  that  canvas  suit !  Why 
don't  you  have  it  filled  in?  it  is  nothing  but  a  warp. 
No  one  in  the  world  would  ever  take  you  for  one  of 
the  F.  F.'s  of  Dixie.  Here,  I  must  write  your  title  on 
your  back;"  and  taking  from  his  pocket  a  piece  of 
chalk,  he  ran  after  Fitz,  who  tried  to  get  out  of  his 
way,  and  wrote  F  F  C  D  on  the  back  of  his  coat.  The 
last  two  letters,  he  informed  Fitz,  "l)el()nged  exclu- 
sively to  Southern  F.  F.'s,  who  were  all  seedy  —  or 
C  D*  for  short." 

Poor  Fitz  tried  hard  to  control  himself;  and  was 
able  to  say,  facetiously,  as  he  observed  Magit  had  torn 
his  coat,  '^  Never  mind,  Magit;  you  see  my  rents  are 
coming  in ;  I  may  be  able  to  purchase  another  suit 
some  of  these  days ;  then,  the  poor  fools  who  have  no 
other  standard  by  which  to  judge  a  gentleman,  except 
his  fashionable  clothes,  may  think  me  one,  without  my 
]ieing  labelled  by  you." 

By  the  time  he  got  through  mending  and  brush- 
in<r^  his  coat,  the  bells  had  stopped  ringing  ;  so  he  had 
to  give  up  the  idea  of  hearing  Doctor  Deems,  —  whose 
church  was  a  long  distance  from  the  hotel,  —  and  make 
liis  way,  with  as  much  haste  as  possible,  to  the  nearest 
church  sanctuary. 


180  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

As  he  stood  waiting  in  the  vestihiile,  the  old  gray- 
headed  sexton  asked  him,  "  if  he  wished  to  be  shown 
to  any  particular  friend's  pew?" 

" Friend ? "  repeated  Fitz.  "I  am  a  stranger  —  I 
have  no  friend.  Show  me  to  the  strangers'  pew."  He 
said  this  in  a  tone  so  sad  that  tlie  old  man  looked 
kindly  at  him,  and  replied :  ''  If  you  are  one  of  God's 
children,  this  is  your  Father's  house,  and  you  are 
among  your  brothers  and  sisters." 

Was  this  indeed  so?  Fitz  did  not  realize  it,  as  he 
sat  in  that  remote  corner,  on  that  uncusliioncd  back 
seat.  Memory  took  him  to  the  old  church  at  home, 
built  by  his  ancestors  over  a  hundred  years  ago. 
Every  tablet  in  the  wall  of  that  old  stone  church  was 
the  memorial  of  a  near  and  dear  relative ;  here,  he  was 
a  stranger  —  poor,  uucared  for,  neglected.  But  these 
bitter  thoughts  were  not  the  ones  he  would  have  sum- 
moned ;  for  he  had  come  there  to  commune  with  his 
God,  and  be  at  peace,  and  these  sad  recollections  had 
come  unbidden.  Closing  his  eyes,  he  prayed  to  God 
to  dispel  them,  and  repeated  to  himself  the  beautiful 
hymn  his  father  used  to  sing  at  family-worship  on 
Saturday  night,  in  the  good  old  days  forever  fled. 

"Chafed  and  worn  with  worldly  care, 
Sweetly,  Lord,  my  heart  prepare. 
Bid  this  inward  tempest  cease ; 
Jesus,  come  and  whisper  peace." 

The  organ  woke,  low  and  soft,  in  the  mournful,  sol- 
emn supplication  of  the  opening  Kyrie  eleison,  Lord, 
have  mercy. 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  181 

The  plaintive  voices  slowly  lifted  their  lonn^,  chro- 
matic waves  of  harmony,  until  the  very  air  quivered. 
It  seemed  to  Fitz  to  be  the  sobbin<^  out  of  his  own  sad, 
despairinii:  heart  in  its  cry  for  "rest." 

The  clero:ynian  was  no  "  Sabbath  drawler  of  old 
saws,"  but  was  young,  ardent,  enthusiastic,  and  earnest. 
lie  took  for  his  text  the  words  of  the  l^lessed  Saviour: 
"  I  looked  for  some  to  take  pity,  and  there  was  none ; 
and  for  comforters,  and  there  wa&  none ;  but  I  am  not 
alone,  the  Father  is  with  me." 

After  speaking  of  the  Saviour's  extreme  loneliness, 
when  forsaken  even  by  his  disciples,  and  his  readiness 
to  excuse  them  when  he  said,  "Tlie  Spirit  truly  is  will- 
ing, but  the  flesh  is  weak,"  he  enlarged  upon  the  latter 
clause  of  the  text,  and  proved  "  if  we  loved  God  we 
could  not  be  alone."  "  The  Father  would  be  with  us," 
as  he  was  with  Joseph,  to  strengthen,  sustain,  and  keep 
him  pure  in  the  midst  of  temptation,  and  with  righteous 
Lot  in  wicked  Sodom;  wdiile,  on  the  other  hand,  Adam 
fell  from  Paradise,  and  Lucifer  from  the  skies.  If  we 
were  lost,  we  could  blame  no  one  but  our  own  corrupt 
selves,  for  God  had  done  all  he  could  to  save  us;  and 
if  we  Avere  eventually  lost,  we  would  have  to  wade 
through  Christ's  blood  into  the  burning  pit. 

He  taught  also  that  there  was  no  royal  road  to 
heaven  ;  and  if  we  ever  reached  the  shining:  citv,  it 
would  only  be  through  the  Slough  of  Despond  and  the 
Valley  of  Humiliation,  up  the  Hill  Difficulty,  right 
past  the  Lions,  and  through  the  deep,  culd  River  of 
Death,  to  where  the  ''shining  ones"  were.  When  he 
10 


182  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

sliaflowed  forth  tlie  c^lorv  that  would  be  ours  iu  that 
brighter,  better  world,  where  the  Saviour  is,  and  our 
loved  and  lost  have  gone,  Fitz  felt  an  unutterable  long- 
ing to  be  there,  and  could  say  from  his  heart,  — 

"  Give  joy  or  grief,  give  ease  or  pain, 
Take  life  or  friends  away  ; 
But  let  me  find  them  all  again 
In  that  eternal  day." 

He  was  so  happy  in  the  prospect  of  heaven  at  last,  that 
the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks ;  and  he  Avas  thankful 
that  the  prayer  afforded  liini  an  opportunity  to  weep 
unobserved.  The  dark  shadows  were  all  dispersed 
from  his  spiritual  horizon,  like  the  unwholesome  vapors 
of  night  before  the  bright  sunshine;  and  when,  with 
profound  tenderness,  the  choir  sang  the  simple  dismis- 
sal hymn,  Dona  nobis  pacem,  he  thanked  God  that 
peace  had  already  come  into  his  heart. 

When  he  reached  the  hotel,  he  met  Wilson,  who, 
exhibiting  a  plethoric  pocketbook,  said  :  "  See  what  a 
fool  you  have  been,  St.  Clair.  I  offered  you  half  I 
won,  if  you  would  join  us,  and  here  are  my  winnings  — 
the  tidy  little  sum  of  three  hundred  dollars,  and  no 
discount.^^ 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  about  the  discount,"  said  Fitz  ; 
^■'  and  I  tell  you  honestly,  I  covet  no  money  earned  as 
you  have  earned  that,  by  gambling  on  the  Sabbath. 
If  I  cannot  make  money  any  other  way,  I  don't  want 
it ; "  and  he  went  to  his  room,  and  wrote  his  mother  a 
long,  cheerful,  happy  letter.     After  posting  it,  he  took 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  183 

from  his  fiitlier's  trunk  liis  fatlier's  Bible,  which  had 
been  in  his  breast-pocket  when  he  was  shot :  it  wixs 
stained  with  blood. 

The  trunk  had  come  into  his  possession  only  the  day 
before.  A  Federal  officer — a  Mason  —  having  cap- 
tured it,  and  found  that  the  General  was  a  Mason  in 
high  standing,  preserved  it,  until  he  accidentally  met 
Fitz  at  the  hotel,  and  turned  it  over  to  him. 

On  the  blank  leaf  of  the  Bible  was  the  family  group, 
taken  just  before  the  General  was  killed,  with  darlins: 
little  May  in  the  centre,  ^^'hen  dying,  General  St. 
Clair  had  asked  to  see  this  picture ;  and  kissing  it,  said, 
"  I  leave  you,  my  treasures,  to  my  country ;  but  meet 
me  in  heaven.  Give  my  sword  to  Fitz;  and  tell  him, 
if  his  country  ever  needs  it,  to  use  it  in  her  defence." 

Fitz  was  reading  in  this  precious  Bible,  when  he 
heard  heavy  footsteps  ascending  the  stairs,  then  a  stop 
at  the  door,  and  a  loud  rap.  He  thrust  the  Bible  into 
his  pocket,  and  placing  his  father's  massive  gold  watch 
and  seals,  signet-ring,  and  pencil,  in  the  trunk,  he 
locked  it  and  went  to  the  door.  Standing  in  front  of  it 
was  a  policeman,  Magit,  one  or  two  of  the  waiters,  and 
a  bulky,  coarse-looking  man. 

"  What  is  it?''  said  Fitz,  quietly. 

"  Why,  it 's  this  :  there 's  been  some  stealing  going 
on.  I  am  a  detective,  and  I  have  come  to  smell  it 
out." 

"  W^ell,  what  have  you  come  here  for?" 

"  Because,  Mr.  Innocence,  we  have  every  reason  to 
believe  you  stole  the  articles,  and  have  come  up  here 


184  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

to  get  tliem  back,  if  you  did  not  dispose  of  tliem  this 
morning  while  you  were  out.'' 

"  You  say  you  have  every  reason  to  believe  I  stole?'' 
almost  gasped  Fitz.     "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  ^yhy  he  means,  F.  F.,  that  you  ought  to  have 
kept  your  name  on  your  back,  then  you  would  have 
been  above  suspicion,  you  see." 

"  What  reason  have  you  to  suspect  me  of  the  dis- 
honorable act?"  asked  Fitz;  ^' I  am  sure  no  one  can 
say  aught  against  my  character  since  I  came  to  this 
city." 

^'  Can't  they,  though  ?  "  said  Magit ;  "  why,  the  very 
first  thing  you  did  was  to  try  and  pass  off  counterfeit 
money  ;  do  you  deny  that  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  at  the  time,"  said  Fitz,  "  that  I  had 
taken  it  in  change." 

"  Yes ;  and  where  did  you  get  it  ?  At  one  of  the 
lowest  gambling-houses  in  the  city.  I  suppose  that 
ain't  true,  either." 

"  Come,  don't  make  any  more  words,"  said  the 
detective,  "  for  any  one  who  deals  in  counterfeit  money 
and  patronizes  gambling-hells  can't  be  trusted  ;  so  you 
just  hand  over  the  key  of  that  aristocratic-looking 
trunk,  and  I  '11  ^overhaul  her,'  as  Captain  Cuttle  would 
say." 

Poor  Fitz;  his  misery  had  culminated,  the  climax 
reached.  Handing  the  key,  he  staggered  back  to  the 
bed,  and  sat  on  the  side  of  it. 

"  High-ho !  what  have  we  here  ? "  said  the  detec- 
tive,  opening  the   case  which  contained   the  elegant 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  185 

watoli,  cliain,  pen,  ring,  studs,  <S:c.  Taking  the  watch 
in  his  hand,  he  said,  ^'  It  appears  to  me,  young  man,  a 
cluster  of  diamonds  would  not  be  at  all  out  of  place 
with  this  magnificent  time-keeper.  What's  its  his- 
tory ?  '^ 

"  It  was  my  father's  watch,"  Fitz  said,  in  a  sad, 
despairing  tone. 

*' Your  father?  Why,  you  are  better  off  than  tlie 
most  of  us,  if  you  had  a  father,"  said  the  officer. 
"  Where  is  your  father  now  ?  " 

''  Dead." 

^'  Poor  orfling,"  said  Magit. 

^*Dead?"  repeated  the  policeman,  "that's  safe, 
anyhow;  but  I'll  bet  this  watch's  father  ain't  dead. 
Here,  Magit,  you  can  wear  it  until  we  find  its  discon- 
solate parient;  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  be  rejoiced  to 
see  it  once  more." 

Fitz  looked  stupidly  at  Magit,  as  he  put  his  father's 
watch  in  his  pocket,  and  arranged  the  heavy  chain, 
with  its  seal,  upon  wlilcli  was  tlie  family  coat-of-arms  ; 
then  his  head  sw-m,  and  he  lay  insensible  on  the  bed. 

"A  sure  mark  of  guilt;  he's  scared  to  death,"  said 
the  inhuman  Magit. 

"  Throw  water  on  him,  and  bring  him  to,"  said  the 
officer ;   '^  for  I  have  no  time  to  wait  on  hysterics." 

They  threw  water  on  him,  unbuttoned  his  collar, 
opened  the  window,  and  used  other  means;  but  it  was 
some  time  before  he  was  able  to  comprehend  his  situa- 
tion. 

"  Where  are  the  articles  you  stole  ?  "  screamed  the 


186  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

detective,  who  seemed  to  think  because  he  did  not  an- 
swer that  he  did  not  hear. 

"  Stole  •? ''  said  Fitz,  —  "  I  stole  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  you  stole,  when  I  met  you  up  in  the  pas- 
sage-way this  morning,"  said  his  tormentor,  ^lagit. 

"  What  carried  you  u^)  in  that  passage  ?  "  asked  the 
policeman. 

"  I  went  up  to  consult  the  church  directory.'' 

'^  Church  !  Why,  bless  the  little  saint  —  it 's  pious, 
it  is." 

"Well,  my  experience  is,"  said  the  policeman,  "that 
the  more  folks  goes  to  church,  the  better  they  are 
prepared  for  the  Tombs.  That's  Scripter,  ain't  it, 
youngster  ?  " 

They  taunted  and  tormented  an  unresisting  martyr; 
for  Fitz  never  opened  his  lips:  it  all  seemed  so  unreal. 
He  was  in  a  stupor,  and  scarcely  appeared  conscious 
of  what  was  going  on. 

"You  seem  so  entirely  moon-struck,"  said  the  police- 
man, "  I  will  leave  you  to  collect  your  senses ;  and 
maybe  you  can  remember  what  you  did  with  the  things 
by  the  time  I  come  back.  Meanwhile,  I'll  just  turn 
the  key  in  this  door,  for  fear  you  might  take  a  notion 
to  go  to  church  again,  and  it  ain't  healthy  to  go  too 
often.  Xow  mind,  I  shall  be  back  in  one  hour,  and 
then,  if  you  don't  produce  the  diamonds,  I  shall  take 
you  to  prison." 

"  You  don't  feel  in  no  ways  like  knocking  a  body 
doNvn  now,  does  you  ?  "  said  Magit,  tauntingly ;  and 
after  the  door  was  closed,  he  opened  it,  and  stuck  his 


FITZ-IIUQH    ST.    CLAIR,  187 

head  in,  to  say,  if  Fitz  felt  like  singing,  he  would  sug- 
gest that 

"Hark!  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound/' 

would  be  very  appropriate  to  the  oceasion. 

But  Fitz  sat  in  mute  despair,  and  resented  nothing. 
Where  was  all  the  joy  and  peace  he  had  felt  a  few 
hours  before?  Why  did  he  go  to  church?  How 
much  better  for  him  would  it  have  been  if  he  had  stayed 
and  gambled  with  Smith  and  Jones,  or  gone  on  the 
excursion  with  Talbot.  Yes,  Wilson  was  ricjht ;  and 
if  he  had  only  listened  to  him,  all  would  have  been 
well.  Temptation,  with  wild  fury,  assailed  him,  until 
in  the  agony  of  despair  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and 
said,  "O  God  — my  father's  God  —  forsake  me  not  ut- 
terly!" He  dared  not  say  another  word  —  heaven 
seemed  so  far  away. 

The  hour  of  grace  granted  him  by  the  detective  was 
fast  passing :  he  must  WTite  to  his  mother,  for  he  did 
not  know  what  would  become  of  him;  in  all  j)robabil- 
ity  he  would  be  sent  to  the  penitentiary,  for  he  had  no 
friends. 

He  took  out  his  portfolio,  and  wrote,  ^'Dearest 
mother,"  —  he  had  written  these  same  words  only  three 
hours  ago.  Could  it  be  possible,  so  short  a  time  had 
elapsed  ?  It  seemed  an  age :  he  was  so  happv  then, 
so  miserable  now.  He  pushed  aside  the  paper  —  he 
could  not  write.  If  Hans  were  only  here  —  but  he 
luid  been  gone  for  a  week.  He  decided,  with  his  usual 
unselfishness,  to  let  his  mother  enjoy  his  pleasant  letter 


188  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

to  her,  and  bear  his  sorrow  alone.  So  he  put  up  his 
portfolio,  locked  his  trunk,  and  quietly  awaited  his 
fate.  The  rain  was  bealino;  heavnlv  ao;ainst  the  win- 
dow ;  the  room  was  dark  and  clieerless,  but  his  soul 
was  darker — the  very  shadow  of  death  seemed  to  have 
settled  upon  him  ;  and  it  was  a  positive  relief,  when 
the  officer  came,  and  suspense  was  over. 

His  look  of  suffering  and  misery  must  have  moved 
even  the  stern  minister  of  justice  to  pity,  for  he  used 
every  argument  to  get  him  to  confess,  and  escape  pun- 
ishment. 

Fitz,  looking  in  his  face,  said,  "  Won't  you  believe 
me,  sir,  when  I  tell  you,  upon  my  honor  as  a  gentle- 
man, I  know  nothing  in  the  world  about  the  lost 
articles.'^  Poor  boy,  he  knew  nothing  higher  than 
"the  honor  of  a  gentleman"  to  declare  by.  "  Well,'' 
said  Catchall,  "  if  you  will  be  obstinate,  you  will  have 
to  suifer  the  consequences  ;  come  along  !  "  and  he  col- 
lared him  and  led  him  out. 

Hans,  his  German  friend,  came  in  at  that  moment, 
having  just  arrived,  and  been  informed  by  Magit  that 
"  Fitz  had  been  caught  stealing  diamonds,  and  was 
o;oino^  to  jail."  Wrino-ins^  his  hands,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Ach  Gott,  verlass  nicht !  "  He  saw  that  Fitz  was 
arrested,  but  he  knew  enough  of  him  to  feel  he  was 
innocent,  and  he  implored  the  officer  to  "  let  him  go." 

As  they  passed,  Magit  struck  up,  "I  wish  I  was 
in  Dixie." 

Hans  followed  him  to  the  jail,  and  begged  to  share 
his    imprisonment,    which    privilege    was,   of  course, 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  189 

refused.  Fitz  reached  the  prison,  drenclied  through 
with  rain.  When  the  turnkey  h)cked  him  in  his  cell, 
he  threw  himself  upon  the  hard  bed;  fever  Avas 
coursing  through  his  veins,  his  temples  throbbed,  and 
he  felt  as  if  he  was  going  to  die.  lie  had  never  been 
so  sick  before.  But  to  die  in  jail,  accused  of  such  a 
low  crime,  and  no  way  to  prove  his  innocence.  Oh, 
the  prospect  was  too  terrible.  Piteously,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Was  this  the  honor,  father,  you  died  to  bequeath 
me?  Oh,  come  back  !  come  back  !  for  this  unpitying 
world  has  no  kind  word  for  the  widows  and  orphans 
of  ^  the  lost  cause.' "  Just  before  daylight,  exhausted 
nature  yielded,  and  he  fell  ?sleep.  A  cool,  soft  hand 
upon  his  brow,  roused  him  late  the  next  afternoon. 

^'  Do  you  feel  better,  my  young  friend  ? "  said  a 
gentle  voice. 

"Better?''  Had  he  been  sick?  Where  was  he? 
He  looked  around,  and  tried  to  collect  his  senses. 
Putting  his  hand  to  his  temples,  which  felt  sore,  he 
found  them  filled  with  blood.  Turning  to  the  doctor, 
he  said,  "Where  am  I?  what  has  been  the  matter 
with  me  ?  and  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  You  have  been  sick ;  I  am  a  physician,  and  have 
applied  leeches  to  your  temples." 

Fitz  pointed  to  the  grated  windows,  and  said,  "  I  am 
in  prison,  charged  with  theft.  I  thought  it  was  only 
a  frightful  dream  I  had  had." 

"  I  hope  your  troubles  will  pass  as  soon  as  a  dream, 
for  Hans  went  after  Mr.  Lorimore,  the  proprietor  of 
your  hotel.     He  returned  to  the  city  immediately,  and 


190  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

will  leave  notliing  undone  to  prove  your  innocence. 
He  called  this  morning,  but  you  did  not  know  him, 
so  he  sent  me. 

"  If  you  are  better,  he  "svill  see  you  to-morrow. 
You  must  keep  very  quiet,  banish  your  sorrows,  t^ke 
this  opiate,  and  try  and  rest  through  the  night.  Leave 
your  case  with  your  friends,  trust  in  God,  and  all  will 
be  right.'^  After  administering  the  draught,  and  put- 
ting the  bladders  filled  with  ice  around  his  head,  the 
doctor  bid  him  good  evening. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  opiate,  he  soon  fell 
asleep,  and  did  not  wake  until  morning.  He  got  up 
and  dressed,  but  felt  so  weak  he  was  glad  to  lie  down 
again.  He  could  not  expect  Mr.  Lorimore  before 
ten,  and  was  restless  and  lonely.  Taking  his  father's 
Bible  out  of  his  pocket,  he  kissed  it,  only  because  it 
was  his  father's  ;  then,  placing  it  upon  his  pillow,  he 
rested  his  cheek  upon  it,  and  slept  until  aroused  by  the 
entrance  of  Mr.  Lorimore,  and  the  kind  physician. 

Mr.  Lorimore  placed  his  hand  affectionately  upon 
Fitz's  head,  and  said,  ^'  How  are  you,  this  morning, 
my  poor  boy  ?  ^^ 

Fitz  told  him  "  better,  but  very  miserable ; "  and 
asked  him  if  nothing  had  come  to  light  concerning 
the  lost  diamonds. 

"  Not  yet ;  but  don't  give  up.  I  feel  confident  you 
are  innocent;  but  Magit  saw  you,  contrary  to  your 
usual  course,  up  in  that  passage.  Then  that  counter- 
feit money.'' 

Fitz  explained  it  all  to  him ;  and  said,  "  If  Magit 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  191 

knows  the  policeman,  go  to  liini  —  he  knows  the  gen- 
tleman who  ordered  Trick um  to  restore  my  money  to 
me;  he  also  heard  him  acknowledge  that  I  did  not 
gamble." 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Lorimore  heard  this,  he  jumped  into 
the  doctor's  buggy,  and  went  to  hunt  up  evidence. 

He  found  the  policeman,  who  certified  to  all  Fitz 
had  said ;  and  told  him,  ^^  that  Mr.  Winthrop,  the 
president  of  the  Bank  upon  which  the  bills  were  coun- 
terfeited, was  the  gentleman  who  came  to  Fitz's  relief, 
and  wrote  the  note  demanding  that  good  bills  should 
be  given,  and  the  counterfeit  bills  burned  up  by  the 
policeman  in  the  presence  of  Fitz,  —  all  of  which  he 
did.'^ 

Mr.  Lorimore  then  went  to  the  Bank,  to  ^Ir.  Win- 
throp, and  asked  him  for  his  evidence.  Mr.  Winthrop 
remembered  the  transaction  perfectly  well ;  and  after 
telling  it  as  he  knew  it,  he  asked  Mr.  Lorimore  "who 
the  young  man  was,  and  where  he  was  from  ?  " 

^'  His  name  is  Fitz-Hugh  St.  Clair,  and  he  is  from 
South  Carolina." 

Mr.  Winthrop  arose  from  his  desk,  greatly  excited, 
wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  face,  and  said,  "  Take 
me  immediately  to  him." 

Mr.  Lorimore  could  not  understand  him  at  all.  On 
the  way,  he  took  the  reins  from  Mr.  Lorimore,  saying, 
"  You  drive  too  slow  !  "  When  he  went  into  the  cell 
where  Fitz  was,  he  walked  right  up  to  him,  and  said  : 
"  Who  are  you,  young  man  ?" 

"  Fitz-Hugh  Winthrop  St.  Clair,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, sir." 


192  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  your  father  speak  of  Winthrop, 
his  college-friend  ?  '^ 

'^  Oh,  yes ;  we  were  taught  to  call  him  Uncle  Harry. 
I  bear  his  last,  and  my  brother  his  first  name." 

Mr.  Winthrop  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments, 
as  though  afraid  to  ask  what  he  wished  to  know.  At 
length  he  said,  in  a  subdued  tone,  "  Where  is  your 
father?'^ 

"  Killed,  sir,''  said  Fitz,  sadly. 

Mr.  Winthrop  walked  to  the  window,  and,  to  the 
surprise  of  everybody,  wept  aloud.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  became  composed  enough  to  introduce  him- 
self to  Fitz,  as  his  father's  dearest  friend,  H.  D.  Win- 
throp. 

^^  I  loved  your  father,  Fitz,  as  my  own  soul.  We 
were  room-mates  in  Yale  for  four  years ;  and,  being  an 
orphan,  I  spent  all  my  vacations  in  your  beautiful 
island  home.  The  news  of  his  death  was  not  unex- 
pected to  me, — that  was  the  reason  I  dreaded  to  in- 
quire. I  knew  his  sentiments,  and  I  also  knew  he  was 
brave  enough  to  die  for  them.  But  I  ordered  my  car- 
riage to  follow  me ;  come,  this  is  no  place  for  you." 

"You  forget,  sir,  I  am  a  prisoner,  charged  with 
theft,  and  cannot  leave." 

"  Ter  things  ish  fount  —  ach,  mein  Gott !  "  said 
Hans,  rushing  in.  ''  Somepoddy  hided  them  under 
the  sofa ;  and  I  am  so  happy ; "  and  it  really  seemed 
so,  for  he  found  one  language  inadequate  to  express  his 
joy,  —  he  used  English,  and  German,  in  turn,  then  a 
mixture  of  the  two,  hugging  Fitz,  and  crying  all  the 
time. 


F  I T  Z  -  H  U  G  II    S  T  .    C  L  A  I  R  .  193 

It  was  indeed  true  tliiit  the  jewels  were  found ;  they 
had  been  put  under  a  sofa  by  whoever  took  them. 
Certainly  not  Fitz,  for  the  sofa  had  been  exchanged 
only  the  day  before,  for  one  from  Mr.  Lorimore's 
private  apartment.  This,  two  waiters  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lorimore  could  prove;  although  the  evil-design- 
ing person  who  had  taken  them,  either  to  ruin  Fitz, 
or  to  possess  himself  of  the  valuables  and  throw  the 
blame  on  Fitz,  did  not  know  it,  and  so  had  been  caught 
in  his  own  snare. 

After  the  release  came,  the  doctor  said,  "  Fitz  is  my 
patient,  Mr.  Winthrop,  and  must  have  no  more  excite- 
ment to-day.  I  must  insist  on  taking  him  in  my  bug- 
gy up  to  the  hotel,  and  to  bed  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

"No,  no;  he  must  go  immediately  home  with  me. 
My  house  is  his  home;  from  henceforth  he  is  my  child." 

"Believe  me,"  said  the  doctor,  "he  is  on  the  verge 
of  brain-fever,  and  must  go  to  bed  at  once,  and  be 
quiet." 

"Let  him  go  with  us  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Lorimore, 
"and  to-morrow  you  honor  us  with  your  company  to 
dinner ;  the  doctor  will  join  us,  and  may  then  consent 
to  resign  his  patient  to  you." 

Mr.  Winthrop  had  to  yield,  but  insisted  on  Fitz 
driving  to  the  hotel  in  his  carriage.  On  the  way  they 
stopped  at  the  tailor's,  and  Fitz  was  measured  for  an 
elegant  suit,  to  be  sent  to  the  hotel  by  twelve  the  next 
day,  and  to  be  followed  by  four  others  as  soon  as  they 
could  be  made.  The  finest  linen  was  next  selected, 
and  the  best-fitting  underclothes.  A  pair  of  fine 
17  N 


194  FITZ-HUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

French  boots  made  his  neat  little  feet  look  natural 
once  more,  and  from  the  silk-lined  dressing-gown  and 
embroidered  slippers,  to  the  French  kids  and  mono- 
gram pocket-handkerchiefs,  nothing  was  forgotten  by 
the  elegant  gentleman,  who  felt  nothing  too  good  for 
the  son  of  his  dearest  friend.  There  is  a  love  stronger 
than  the  love  of  a  brother  —  the  love  of  a  friend,  which 
Moses  says  is  "as  the  love  of  one's  own  soiil.'^ 

When  they  stopped  at  the  hotel,  Mr.  Winthrop  had 
Fitz's  name  entered  upon  the  books.  "Give  him 
Number  Sixteen,  the  room  I  always  occupy,"  said  he 
to  the  clerk. 

"  He  is  my  guest,"  said  Mr.  Lorimore,  "  and  I  owe 
him  more  than  I  can  ever  pay.  I  might  as  well  con- 
fess, for  honest  confession  is  good  for  the  soul :  this 
boy  has  restored  my  confidence  in  my  race,  and  forced 
me  to  believe  what  I  have  not  done  for  years,  namely, 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  'genuine  Christianity'  yet 
on  this  earth." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  I  am  a  poor,  miserable  represen- 
tative, not  worthy  to  be  called  a  disciple,"  said  Fitz; 
and  his  eyes  w^ere  full  of  tears,  as  he  remembered  the 
past  two  days. 

"  Not  another  Avord,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  to  your 
room  and  to  bed  for  the  rest  of  the  day."  Hans  fol- 
lowed him  like  his  shadow,  and  seemed  afraid  to  let 
him  get  out  of  his  sight,  even  for  a  moment.  Fitz 
insisted  upon  his  occupying  the  room  with  him,  and 
a  gentler,  or  more  devoted  nurse  never  hovered  around 
a  sick-bed  than  this  loving  enthusiast  proved  himself 
to  be. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


THE   HOTEL   DINNER. 


IT  was  quite  late  in  the  morning  before  Fitz  awoke, 
but  he  did  so  refreshed,  and  feeling  happier  than 
he  had  felt  since  the  war. 

Hans  was  standing  at  the  window,  after  having 
opened  all  the  packages.  As  soon  as  he  found  Fitz 
was  awake,  he  rang  the  bell  for  breakfast  to  be  brought 
up;  and  told  him  Mr.  Winthrop's  servant  had  left 
that  elegant  dressing-case,  and  inquired  after  his  health, 
and  Mrs.  Winthrop  had  sent  the  exquisite  bouquet,  in 
the  vase  at  his  side. 

Fitz  was  too  full  for  utterance,  and  Hans  had  every- 
thing his  own  way.  "  Fitz  was  to  eat  breakfast  in  his 
dressing-gown,  and  then  make  an  elegant  toilet, — 
which  would  make  Magit  die  mit  rage;'^  and  the 
thought  of  the  catastrophe  wreathed  the  face  of  the 
honest  German  with  smiles. 

^'  Hans,''  said  Fitz,  ^'  I  can't  afford  to  indulge  such 
feelings  to-day;  I  am  so  grateful  to  my  heavenly 
Father  for  overruling  Magit's  wicked  designs  against 

195 


196  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

me,  that  I  do  not  feel  as  though  I  would  ever  take 
vengeance  into  my  own  hands  again.  But  what  have 
you  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  ain't  it  putiful  ?  I  am  glad  you  have 
something  so  goot  to  learn  on,"  taking  a  beautiful 
meerschaum  from  its  velvet  bed,  and  handing  it  to 
Fitz. 

"I  shall  never  learn,"  said  Fitz;  "but  I  am  glad  I 
have  this  to  give  you,  as  you  will  smoke." 

"  Oh,  no,  Feetz.  Why,  it  is  gold-mounted,  and  the 
most  putiful  pipe  I  ever  saw." 

"  So  much  the  better,  Hans ;  nothing  could  be  too 
good  for  you,  my  kind  friend.  I  would  rather  that 
you  would  not  smoke ;  but,  as  you  will,  I  am  glad  to 
have  this  beautiful  meerschaum  to  give  you." 

When  Fitz  answered  the  summons  to  the  parlor, 
dressed  in  his  new  suit,  he  looked  a  model  of  manly 
beauty.  His  pale,  intellectual  face,  and  graceful  form, 
would  have  attracted  attention  in  any  place,  and  Mr. 
W^inthroj)  was  impatient  to  introduce  him  to  his  family. 

Mr.  Lorimore  had  provided  an  elegant  dinner,  at  a 
private  table ;  and  the  Doctor,  Hans,  Mr.  Winthrop, 
and  his  son,  Arthur  St.  Clair,  —  who  was  so  impatient 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  his  "  new  brother,"  that 
he  would  not  wait  until  his  father  brought  him  to  his 
new  home,  but  insisted  on  going  uninvited  to  the  din- 
ner, —  sat  down  to  enjoy  it. 

The  waiters,  with  whom  Fitz  had  always  been  a 
favorite,  took  a  malicious  pleasure  in  placing  the  table 
at  the  end  of  the  dining-room,  right  by  Magit's  desk, 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  197 

SO  tliat  worthy  gontleinaii  could  liave  the  full  benefit 
of  all  that  was  being  done  in  honor  of  his  vietiin.  He 
was  aware  that  his  humiliation  was  a  matter  of  rejoic- 
injr  to  all  in  the  house.  His  face  was  as  black  as  a  thun- 
der-cloud;  and  his  indignation  culminated,  when  Mr. 
Lorimore  called  him,  and  handing  a  key,  ordered  him 
to  "bring  a  bottle  of  the  choicest  old  wine  for  ^Mr.  St. 
Clair.'^ 

ITe  brought  it;  and  slamming  it  down  in  front 
of  Mr.  Lorimore,  darted  a  glance  of  the  most  deadly 
hatred  at  Fitz,  who  studiously  avoided  recognizing 
his  presence. 

Fitz  declined  all  solicitation  to  take  "any  kind  of 
liquor.'^ 

"  Xot  even  iced  claret  ?  "  said  !Mr.  Lorimore ;  "  I 
insist  on  your  taking  that  at  least;  there  is  no  alcohol 
in  it.'^ 

"Please  excuse  me,"  said  Fitz;  "I  will  never  drink, 
I  am  resolved,  while  I  live.  My  dear  father's  rule 
was,  never  to  touch  liquor,  unless  prescribed  by  a 
physician."  Then  turning  to  Mr.  Winthrop,  he  said : 
"  I  am  sure  you  do  not  think,  sir,  1  could  select  a 
better  model?" 

Mr.  Winthrop  seemed  too  much  moved  to  speak  ; 
he  only  shook  his  head ;  and  removing  his  glasses, 
wiped  them. 

"  You  say  ^you  will  take  a  drink  if  prescribed  by  a 
physician  ; '  so  Doctor,  issue  your  professional   indul- 
gence, for  I  am  sure  a  glass  of  green  seal  will  be  of 
infinite  service  to  your  patient." 
17* 


198  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  I  prescribe  liquor,  Mr.  Lorimore,  with  more 
caution  than  I  do  arsenic,  for  the  very  name  of  arsenic 
forewarns  you  of  danger;  but  liquor  is  perfidious,  and 
deludes  to  kill.  I  do  not  allow  the  use  of  paregoric 
in  ray  family  for  the  same  reason  ;  its  seeming  harm- 
lessness  makes  it  accomplish  more  harm  than  its  more 
dreaded  brother  laudanum,  for  there  is  no  jj^ainsavinfj 
the  fact,  that  where  one  child  falls  a  victim  to  lauda- 
num, a  dozen  are  drugged  to  death  with  paregoric.  I 
am  a  physician,  and  I  know  that  putrefaction  is  more 
dangerous  before  maturity  than  after  it;  so  the  mod- 
erate drinker  does  infinitely  more  harm  than  the  aban- 
doned drunkard,  who  is  a  temperance  lecture  himself." 

*'  Come,  Doctor,  I  am  afraid  your  extreme  views 
will  prevent  Mr.  Winthrop's  testing  this  old  Cognac," 
making  ready,  as  he  spoke,  to  pour  the  liquor  into 
Mr.  \Yinthrop's  tumbler. 

"  Not  any  for  me,  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop ; 
"the  Doctor  and  myself  fully  agree  as  to  ^moderate 
drinking,'  and  particularly  in  this  time  of  universal  de- 
fection do  I  believe  it  the  duty  of  every  Christian 
man  to  do  all  in  his  power  against  it." 

"  But  if  you  do  that,  you  will  have  to  stop  going 
into  society,"  said  ]Mr.  Lorimore,  "  for  there  is  not  a  so- 
ciety, or  a  Masonic  meeting,  or  a  club,  that  don't  mean 
'drink.'  Why,  the  society  that  met  here  last  night 
for  a  benevolent  purpose  paid  two  hundred  dollars 
for  liquor,  and  voted  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  to 
be  divided  among  forty  widows  and  orphans." 

"  You  are  using  your  own  arguments  against  your- 


F  IT  Z- II  UGH    ST.    CLAIR.  199 

self, sir,". said  Mr.  AViiithrop.  "Do  you  not  see  tliat  if'tlie 
members  of  that  society  had  been  conscientious  Chris- 
tian gentlemen,  and  really  meant  what  they  professed  — 
'  to  help  the  widow  and  orphan'  — their  meeting  would 
have  resulted  in  great  good,  and  not  turned  out  a 
druid-cen  orgy,  as  it  did.     Liquor  is  to  blame  for  it." 

"  You  spoke  of  ^  Masonic  meetings ; '  I  am  a  Ma- 
son, and  I  tell  you,  sir,  a  good  Mason  never  gets 
drunk.  Masonry  forbids  it.  You  are  also  mistaken 
in  saying  that  *  society  requires  that  a  man  should 
drink.'  It  is  a  libel  upon  society,  for  it  makes  no 
such  requirement;  it  is  the  beastly  craving  of  his 
own  depraved  appetite  that  makes  a  man  drink. 
"When  the  weather  is  warm,  the  drunkard  drinks 
because  it  is  warm  ;  when  it  is  cold,  he  drinks  because 
it  is  cold.  If  a  man  has  a  bad  wife,  ^  the  poor,  un- 
fortunate creature '  drinks  to  make  her  better ;  if  he 
has  a  good  wife,  he  drinks  to  discipline  her,  and  make 
her  long  for  a  better  world.  If  he  is  prospering  in 
business,  Mie  can  afford  to  drink;'  if  business  is  dull, 
*  it  is  enough  to  make  any  man  drink  ; '  and  the  fact 
is,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  decide  for  which  I  have  the  greater 
contempt,  the  drunkard,  or  the  weak,  lying  excuses  lie 
makes  for  drlnkino;.  Instead  of  comlno;  out  honcstlv, 
and  acknowledging  that  ^  the  beast '  in  his  nature  had 
triumphed  over  ^  the  angel,'  and  he  was  a  victim,  he 
tries  to  make  his  wife,  the  weather,  society,  and  every- 
thing else,  the  scape-goat  for  his  own  want  of  manli- 
ness. I  have  been  in  society,  and  the  best  of  society, 
too,  from  my  boyhood,  and  I  have  never  been  com- 


200  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

pelled  to  drink  in  order  to  retain  my  position.  When- 
ever I  drank,  I  did  it  because  of  my  own  weakness." 

"  There  was  a  dinner  given/'  said  Fitz,  "  to  General 
Lee  a  sliort  time  since,  by  one  of  our  wealthy  and 
aristocratic  families,  upon  whose  luxurious  table,  (no 
matter  what  the  occasion,)  liquor  was  never  introduced  ; 
no,  not  even  when  the  Prince  of  "Wales  enjoyed  their 
elegant  hospitality.  Although  for  his  dear,  good,  wo- 
manly mother's  sake  they  delighted  to  honor  her  son, 
yet  they  reserved  to  themselves  the  right  of  doing  so 
in  their  own  way,  a  way  which  they  knew  England's 
Christian  Queen  would  approve.  They  did  not  try  to 
make  a  beast  of  the  heir  to  her  throne,  but  treated 
him  as  a  young  man  in  whose  hands  the  destiny  of 
the  British  nation  would  soon  be  placed,  and  who 
would  need  all  his  faculties  unimpaired,  to  be  equal  to 
the  demands  which  would  be  made  upon  him.  Since 
that  dinner,  however,  the  sons  in  the  family  had  grown 
up,  and  now  that  General  Lee  (whom  you  know  we 
w^orship  at  the  South)  was  to  be  entertained,  they  insist- 
ed that  this  rigid  temperance  rule  should  be  set  aside  for 
'just  this  once,'  and  liquors  be  provided.  The  parents 
held  out  for  a  long  time,  but  at  length  the  mother  was 
won  over,  and  she  joined  in  wresting  an  unwilling 
consent  from  the  father  to  permit  Champagne,  '  only 
that  and  nothing  more,'  to  be  used  on  the  great  occasion. 

"  Well,  the  dinner-hour  arrived ;  and  the  accom- 
plished waiters  drew  the  green-sealed  corks  from  the 
frozen  beverage,  and  essa^^ed  to  fill  the  General's  glass. 
Very  quietly,  however,  this  was  prevented  by  the  Gen- 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  201 

eral  himself,  wlio  placed  his  hand  —  that  hand  that  had 
wielded  the  victorious  sword  on  many  a  battlc-licld  — 
over  the  glass,  and  with  a  quiet  motion  of  the  head,  the 
liquor  was  declined.  Who  thought  it  rude?  The  act 
was  the  simplest  in  the  world,  done  in  a  second ;  but 
the  result  of  that  example  —  who  can  tell?  I  tell  you, 
it  influenced  the  lives,  and  sealed  the  destiny  of  every 
young  man  at  that  table,  and  was  worthy  of  the  great, 
good  man  who  did  it." 

"  God  bless  the  noble  General,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop. 
"He  is  one  of  the  very  few  men  brave  enough  to  have 
acted  so.  Long  may  our  young  men  have  his  example 
left  them." 

"  Let 's  drink  to  that,"  said  Fitz,  taking  up  a  glass 
of  ice- water ;  "  and  let  us  add  the  wish,  that  when  he 
does  die,  it  may  be  in  his  own  home ;  for  he  is  the 
grandest  hero  on  this  earth,  although  the  hero  of  a 
*  lost  cause.' " 

"Will  you  allow  us  to  join  in  that  wish?"  said  a 
gentleman  at  an  adjoining  table,  speaking  for  his  party, 
who  indorsed  him  by  raising  their  glasses  to  their  lips. 
"  We  are  from  Massachusetts;  but  General  Lee's  repu- 
tation is  national  —  the  South  cannot  monopolize  him, 
there  is  too  much  of  him  ;  they  might  as  well  attempt 
to  monopolize  the  sunlight,  because  it  shines  so  much 
warmer  upon  them  than  upon  us.  General  Lee  belongs 
to  America ;  and  my  toast  will  be  the  earnest  desire  of 
many  hearts  —  Xorth  as  well  as  South  —  that  the  dis- 
grace to  the  nation  Washington  founded,  may  be  w^iped 
out,  by  the  restoration  of  ^Arlington,  to  Mary  Custis,' 
lest,  in  the  language  of  Virginia's  inspired  poetess, 


202  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

*  The  blood  allied  to  Washington, 

Spurned  from  the  rights  he  gave, — 
Denied  the  vaunted  justice  done 

To  every  home-born  slave,  — 
The  blood  of  Askalon  will  tell. 

And  Gath  will  hear  afar ; 
And  kingdoms  sneer  it,  one  to  one,  — 

"  How  base  republics  are." '  " 

Fitz  bowed  the  thanks  his  full  heart  forbade  his  at- 
tempting to  utter.  The  love  of  the  South  for  General 
Lee  is  an  intense  passion.  We  love  to  love  him  —  we 
are  ennobled  by  it,  for  he  has  no  peer.  As  a  conquer- 
incr  creneral,  his  victories  were  ever  ascribed  to  his  sol- 
diers ;  and  when  his  decimated,  starving  army  was  so 
terribly  outnumbered,  that  it  was  worse  than  folly  to 
try  and. fight  the  whole  world  with  them  any  longer, 
he,  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  Roman  emperor,  surren- 
dered it.  In  good  faith  he  laid  down  his  sword,  and 
retired  to  private  life,  not  to  murmur  and  repine,  but  to 
go  to  work  and  do  the  good  that  was  left  him  to  do;  and 

"More  true  pride  Marcellus,  exiled,  feels, 
Than  Cjesar,  with  a  senate  at  his  heels."  * 

Soon  after  dinner,  Mr.  Winthrop's  coach  drove  up 
to  the  door.  ^Ir.  Lorimore  drew  Fitz  aside,  and  of- 
fered him  a  salary  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  and  his 
board,  if  he  would  remain  as  assistant  bookkeeper. 

Mr.  Winthrop  stepped  up  while  they  were  talking, 
and  said,  ''  Excuse  me.  Fitz,  enter  into  no  engage- 
ment, until  you  know  the  plans  I  have  for  you.  Mr. 
Lorimore  is  very  good,  and  very  generous,  and  I  thank 
him  for  it;  but  we  must  do  nothing  hastily.'^ 

*  The  great  and  good  General  has  since  died. 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  203 

Mr.  Lorimore  had  told  Fitz,  tliat  morning,  that 
"  Magit  was  discharged,  and  woukl  leave  on  the  first 
of  the  month."  Fitz  begged  that  he  should  be  "  put 
on  trial  again,  for  his  sake."  Mr.  Lorimore  was  in- 
exorable.   Fitz  now  again  urged  his  request. 

*'I  have  given  the  place  to  Hans,"  said  Mr.  Lori- 
more. 

''  Then  give  Magit  my  place,  for  my  sake,"  pleaded 
the  noble-hearted  young  man. 

"I  can't  find  it  in  my  heart  to  refuse  you  anything, 
Fitz ;  but  I  tell  you,  truly,  I  cannot  bear  to  see  the 
unprincipled  fellow  around,  and  I  had  quite  made  up 
my  mind  to  pay  him  up,  and  send  him  ofi",  as  soon  as 
he  irave  vou  vour  fiither's  watch." 

Fitz  observed  some  signalling  going  on:  then  Magit, 
as  white  as  a  ghost,  followed  by  the  whole  hotel  force, 
came  in. 

*^  I  have  sent  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Lorimore  to  Magit, 
"  to  return  to  Mr.  St.  Clair,  in  presence  of  these  w^it- 
nesses,  his  father's  watch  and  chain,  and  also,  ask  his 
pardon  for  the  contemptible  rascality  you  practised  to 
ruin  him,  because  he  w^as,  what  you  could  never  be- 
come —  a  gentleman." 

"  Enough !  enough ! "  said  Fitz,  walking  up  to 
Magit,  and  taking  the  watch  and  chain,  at  the  same 
lime  offering  his  hand,  and  saying,  *^  I  am  not  your 
enemy,  and  I  will  not  accept  any  humiliation.  Good- 
bye, Magit,"  and  before  any  one  knew  what  he  was 
about,  he  had  left  the  room. 

When  they  reached  Mr.  Winthrop's  elegant  mansion, 


204  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

the  wliole  family  came  to  the  door  to  welcome  Fltz. 
Mrs.  Winthrop  put  her  arms  around  him,  and  affec- 
tionately kissing  him,  said,  "  You  are  more  than  wel- 
come, my  son,  to  the  home  of  your  father's  brother." 

"This  is  my  daughter  Lucie,  Fitz-Hugh — your 
mother's  namesake,"  and  Fitz  shook  hands  with  one 
of  the  loveliest  and  most  graceful  girls  he  had  ever 
looked  upon,  her  long  golden  ringlets  reminding  him 
of  his  own  beautiful  sister. 

"  Papa,  must  not  sister  Lucie  kiss  Fitz?  You  said 
he  was  to  be  our  brother,  and  she  always  kisses  brother 
Arthur,"  said  little  Marie. 

Fitz  and  Lucie  both  blushed  ;  but  Lucie,  with  wo- 
man's ready  tact,  said  :  "  Fitz  does  not  want  to  kiss  a 
great  girl  like  me,  Marie,  so  I  will  send  my  kiss  to 
him  by  you,"  kissing  her;  "now  give  that  to  your 
new  brother,  for  me." 

'^  Are  you  not  going  to  have  him  for  your  brother, 
too,  Lucie  ?  "  inquired  the  annoyingly  persistent  little 
sprite. 

"Of  course  I  am,  darling  —  if  he  will  let  me." 

"  Will  you  be  sister  Lucie's  brother  ?  "  she  asked, 
looking  up  into  his  face. 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  proud  to  have  two  such  sisters 
as  Miss  Lucie  and  yourself,"  he  said,  taking  Mari^  in 
his  arms ;  "  you  know  I  have  two  very  dear  sisters  at 
home,  whom  I  have  not  kissed  for  more  than  a  year, 
so  you  will  have  to  give  me  a  whole  dozen  kisses  to 
make  up  for  it.  Sister  Rena  is  just  the  age  of  Miss 
Lucie," — "Sister  Lucie,"  Marie  said,  correcting  him, — 
"  and  Clara  is  about  vour  ao:e." 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  205 

"  ^Ve\\,  I  will  give  you  Clara's  kisses,  and  sister 
Lucie  must  kiss  you  for  Rena,"  putting  up  her  rosy 
little  lips  and  kissing  him  six  times;  then  jumping 
down,  for  Lucie  to  have  her  turn. 

Arthur  roared  out  laughing  at  the  awkward  pre- 
dicament in  which  Marie  innocently  persisted  in 
placing  her  blushing  sister. 

And  ^Ir.  Winthrop  laughingly  said,  "  Come,  Lucie, 
Marie  is  determined  Fitz  shall  have  a  sister's  welcome 
from  you." 

Fitz,  with  this  tacit  permission  from  her  father, 
was  too  gallant  not  to  take  advantage  of  the  blissful 
opportunity.  Lucie's  glowing  cheeks,  however,  made 
him  merciful,  and 

"His  kiss  passed  in  height  the  lips 
And  sought  the  forehead,  and  half  missed, 
Half  falling  on  her  hair." 

It  was  SO  delightful  for  Fitz  to  be  once  more  seated 
at  an  elegant  home  table,  that  he  was  too  happy  to  eat, 
although  a  gentle,  musical  voice,  which  thrilled  him 
through  and  through,  pressed  the  dainty  viands  upon 
him. 

After  supper  they  w^ent  into  the  parlor,  and  Lucie, 
at  her  father's  request,  played  for  them,  both  on  the 
harp  and  the  piano.  She  played  beautifully,  and  had 
one  of  the  sweetest  voices  in  the  world. 

"Miss  Lucie,  your  touch  reminds  me  of  my 
mother,"  said  Fitz. 

"  I  took  lessons,  when  abroad,  from  her  old  teacher, 
18 


206  FITZ-nUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

Don  Giovanni,"  said  Lucie.  "Hensed  to  tell  me  I 
played  like  her,  and  I  considered  it  such  a  compliment 
to  be  thought  to  resemble  one  whom  I  had  never  heard 
spoken  of,  either  in  Europe  or  America,  except  in  terms 
of  the  greatest  admiration." 

"  It  would  be  impossible  to  say  too  much,  either  of 
her  character  or  person,"  said  Fitz,  with  emotion; 
"she  was  all  you  have  imagined  her.  Miss  Lucie,  but 
is  now  a  heart-broken  widow." 

"  Say  sistei'  Lucie !  "  said  Marie ;  "  you  have  got  the 
best  forgetity  I  ever  saw,  brother  Fitz." 

Arthur  accompanied  his  sister  on  the  flute,  and 
while  playing  was  summoned  to  see  some  one  in  the 
library.  As  he  Avent  out  he  handed  the  flute  to  Fitz, 
and  said,  "  play  until  I  return."  He  was  joking ;  but 
Fitz,  in  his  own  sweet  style,  played  a  second  to  the 
tune  Lucie  was  playing. 

"  Do  you  play  on  the  piano  ? "  asked  Mr.  ^Yin- 
throp. 

"  A  little,"  said  Fitz,  turning  over  the  leaves  of 
Lucie's  music-book.  ^' Do  you  play  this  duet?"  he 
asked,  pointing  to  "  The  Long,  Long,  Weary  Day," 
arrancred  as  a  duet. 

"  I  used  to  play  it  with  my  mother  during  the  war." 

"Let  us  play  it,"  said  Lucie,  making  room  for  Fitz 
at  her  side.  They  played  that  sadly  beautiful  tune, 
and  then  another,  and  another,  and  still  another,  until 
the  clock's  striking  warned  them  of  the  lateness  of 
the  hour. 

Mr.  Winthrop  apologized  to  Fitz  for  their  thought- 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  207 

Icssncss  ill  forgetting  tliat  lie  was  not  well.  But  Ar- 
thur insisted  it  was  liis  own  fault,  for  that  he  had, 
Orpheus-like,  charmed  away  their  memories. 

Lucie  said,  in  the  innocence  of  her  heart,  "  I  have 
no  apologies  to  make  you,  for  I  can  truly  say  I  never 
enjoyed  music  as  I  have  to-night ;  I  could  play  until 
morning  with  you." 

The  evening  had  indeed  passed  most  delightfully ; 
all  outsiders  had  been  refused  admittance,  in  conse- 
quence of  Fitz's  feeble  health ;  so  it  was  pure,  unin- 
terrupted, heartfelt  home  enjoyment. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winthrop  sat  for  hours  after  the  rest 
had  retired  talking  over  Fitz,  General  St.  Clair,  his 
family,  his  death,  &c.,  &c. 

General  St.  Clair  had  many  years  ago  loaned  ^Ir. 
Winthrop  quite  a  large  sum  of  money.  This,  with 
the  added  interest,  he  held  in  trust  for  the  family,  and 
intended  taking  to  the  widow. 

"  You  must  insist,  Harry,  on  their  coming  North 
until  things  get  settled  South.  I  am  crazy  to  see  the 
wife  of  your  best  earthly  friend ;  I  feel  that  a  life- 
time devoted  to  them,  would  not  repay  the  debt  you 
owe  that  bravest,  and  best  of  men."  * 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  case  of  '  love  at  first 
sight' as  that  manifested  this  evening ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Winthrop,  who  had  woman's  peculiar  gift  of  discov- 
ering all  premonitory  symptoms  of  "heart  disease." 

"They  were  betrothed  in  infancy,"  replied  Mr. 
Winthrop,  "and  you  cannot  imagine  what  happiness 
it  afforded  me  to  find  Fitz  a  vouth  to  whom  anv  father 


208  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

miglit  with  safety  and  pride  commit  a  darling  daugh- 
ter's happiness.  The  dearest  wish  of  my  heart  is  to 
see  them,  when  old  enough,  married." 

"  I  am  impatient  to  see  Lucie  St.  Clair,  and  must 
go  South  with  Fitz  next  week,  if  you  can  spare  me." 

^'  Only  to  visit  and  carry  sympathy  and  love  to 
your  more  than  brother's  wife,  Harry  ?  But  I  must 
send  a  box,  so  do  keep  Fitz  every  moment  that  you 
can,  tliat  I  may  be  able  to  prepare  a  present  worth  the 
accepting." 


CHAPTER  XX. 


MR.    WIXTHROP  S    HISTORY   OF   HIMSELF. 


THE  next  morning  Mr.  "Winthrop  requested  Fitz  to 
^'  spend  a  few  hours  with  him  in  the  library,  and 
tell  him  about  his  family." 

As  he  listened  to  the  sad  story  of  suffering  and 
wrong,  he  wept  like  a  child. 

"  I  was  a  Union  man/^  he  said,  "  but,  God  knows, 
every  sentiment  of  my  nature  revolts  at  the  enslave- 
ment of  my  own  race,  and  their  subjection  to  igno- 
rant negroes  and  irresponsible  and  unscrupulous  riif- 
raflf  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  As  the  English 
papers  say, '  it  is  the  intensest  form  of  torture  that  could 
have  been  possibly  imagined,  for  intelligent  white  peo- 
ple, and  is  a  disgrace  to  any  civilized  government.' 

"Did  you  write  to  your  mother  about  your  ar- 
rest?" 

"  !N'o,  sir ;  she  has  had  so  much  sorrow,  I  could  not 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  add  to  her  already  full  cup." 

"  You  are  a  worthy  son  of  the  noblest  man  I  ever 
knew,  Fitz.  I  told  you  your  father  was  '  my  dearest 
lb*  0  209 


210  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

friend/  but  he  was  more  tlian  tliat :  he  was  my  benefac- 
tor, and  hut  for  liim  I  would  liave  been  a  ruined,  misera- 
ble outcast.  For  four  years  we  were  room-mates  in  old 
Yale.  When  I  entered  college,  I  was  a  wild,  reckless 
boy.  My  uncle,  who  was  also  (since  the  death  of  my 
parents)  my  guardian,  w^as  an  unyielding,  hard,  ex- 
acting tyrant.  Part  of  this  was  owing  to  his  natural 
disposition,  and  part  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a  nervous, 
dyspeptic  hypochondriac.  I  had  been  an  only  child, 
caressed  and  indulged,  and  my  uncle's  harsh  treatment 
discouraged  and  drove  me  to  dissipation.  Any  indis- 
cretion called  doAvn  upon  me  the  severest  censure. 
He  was  immensely  wealthy,  and  I  was  sole  heir,  unless 
I  disinherited  myself — as  I  did,  upon  an  average,  five 
or  six  times  a  year  —  by  some  little  peccadillo,  that  no 
one  else  would  have  regarded  as  of  any  consequence. 

"After  I  knew  your  father,  and  he  became  my  friend, 
I  found  it  easy  to  do  right ;  he  was  so  high-toned,  and 
honorable  himself,  that  to  come  in  contact  with  him 
made  others  so.  I  admired,  only  less  than  I  loved  him, 
and  could  not  bear  to  be  separated  from  him.  In  years 
I  was  his  senior,  in  character  he  was  mine;  and  I 
looked  up  to  him,  as  to  an  older  brother,  and  even 
spent  my  vacations  in  your  beautiful  island  home  — 
although  to  go  South  in  summer  was  not  considered 
exactly  the  thing.  I  felt  no  place,  where  I  enjoyed  his 
society,  uncomfortable. 

"  He  graduated  in  the  class  above  me,  and,  conse- 
quently, left  me  in  college.  He  married  a  few  mouths 
after  he  graduated,  and  went  to  Europe.    I  went  South 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.   CLAIR.  211 

to  wait  upon  him,  and  returned  with  the  bridal  party. 
The  hist  time  I  saw  your  mother  was  on  board  the 
steamer ;  I  kissed  her  good-bye,  and  thought  her  the 
loveliest  being  my  eyes  ever  beheld. 

"  Your  father  had  taken  first  honor,  and  I  resolved 
to  do  no  less.  I  studied  from  his  books,  and  imagined 
I  caught  inspiration  from  them.  ^  I  will  hear  your 
graduating  speech,  Harry,  if  I  am  alive,'  he  had  said 
to  me,  so  I  determined  it  should  repay  him  for  doing 
so.  Before  he  left  New  Haven,  he  introduced  me  into 
the  family  of  Professor  Yale,  my  wife's  father,  and  ad- 
vised me  to  cultivate  the  acquaintance.  As  iSIiss  Marie 
was  both  a  belle  and  a  beauty,  and  the  family  refined 
and  intelligent,  I  did  not  need  much  persuasion ;  and 
soon  became  a  constant  visitor  at  the  house,  and  a  suitor 
for  the  hand  of  my  dear  wife,  with  the  approval  of  her 
parents.  Your  parents  returned  home  a  few  weeks 
before  Commencement,  your  mother  being  in  feeble 
health.  I  had  outstripped  all  competitors,  and  won 
the  highest  honors  of  my  class  —  the  honor  won  by  the 
man  I  admired  and  considered  unapproachable.  I  was 
proud  and  happy.  ]My  uncle  was  gratified,  and  would 
have  left  me  a  dozen  fortunes,  if  they  had  been  his  to 
leave.  ^  I  am  going  to  see  you  graduate,  Harry;  and, 
as  the  "first-honor  man"  may  be  called  upon  to  do  the 
treating  on  the  occasion,  I  enclose  a  check.  Don't  be 
stingy, — you  have  honored  my  name,  and  I  will  honor 
your  draft.'*  So  wrote  my  uncle,  enclosing  a  check  for 
five  hundred  dollars. 

"  The  week  before  Commencement,  I  received  a  let- 


212  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

ter  from  your  father,  informing  me  that  'your  mother's 
state  of  health  would  prevent  his  being  present  at  my 
graduation.'  He  wrote  in  the  most  aifectionate  man- 
ner, expressing  his  great  satisfaction  and  delight  at  my 
collegiate  success,  my  matrimonial  prospects,  the  favor 
I  had  w^on  with  my  uncle,  &c.  To  one  less  sensitive 
than  I  am,  the  letter  would  have  conveyed  the  impres- 
sion only  of  the  most  devoted  'brother  love;'  but  feel- 
ing, as  I  did,  his  great  superiority,  I  was  exacting, 
and  wanted  the  additional  proof  of  his  coming  so  far, 
just  to  see  me  graduate,  to  convince  me  that  he  really 
loved  me  for  virtues  that  I  possessed,  and  not  simj^ly 
because  it  would  be  unnatural  to  remain  conscious  of 
the  fervor  of  my  devotion  to  him,  and  not  reciprocate 
in  some  measure. 

"  I  was  disappointed,  mortified,  sad.  '  Commence- 
ment Day '  lost  its  attraction  to  me.  Marie,  my  guar- 
dian angel  then  as  now,  chid  me  for  my  suspicions, 
and  said,  '  Mr.  St.  Clair  does  not  think  it  necessary  to 
repeat  in  every  letter  assurances  for  what  you  ought  to 
have  found  out  years  ago  —  his  sincere  and  devoted 
love  for  you.  Why,  the  admiration  and  aj^preciation 
he  always  expressed  for  "  Winthrop,  the  whole-souled 
fellow,"  made  me  long  to  know  you ;  and  the  truth  is, 
I  was  more  than  half  in  love  w^ith  you  before  lie  intro- 
duced us.  So  don't  be  ungenerous  —  you  will  get  to 
doubting  my  love  next.' 

"  I  passed  my  examination  to  the  satisfa(?tion  of  both 
the  faculty  and  myself.  The  next  day  was  to  be  the 
day  of  days  in  student-life  —  'Commencement  Day.' 
I  had  just  accompanied  my  uncle  to  the  hotel,  and  re- 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.   CLAIR.  213 

turned  to  my  room  for  the  niglit,  when  the  door  was 
opened,  and  Arthur  St.  Clair,  with  valise  in  hand  and 
shawl  upon  his  arm,  entered.  I  cannot  express  my 
joy  and  gratification.  I  rushed  at  him,  and  on  him, 
until  —  I  have  often  thought  since  —  he  must  have 
imagined  my  honors  had  driven  me  mad.  I  did  not 
explain  the  twofold  reason  I  had  for  my  rejoicing,  and 
the  ardent  greetinoj  I  o;ave  him. 

"  *  Your  heart  is  like  a  gushing  fountain,  Harry,' 
he  said ;  ^  and  I  am  glad  to  find  Miss  Marie  cannot 
exhaust  the  supply  of  ])ure,  earnest  love  that  is  ever 
springing  fresh  and  beautiful  in  it.' 

"He  had  left  your  mother  —  still  an  invalid  —  by 
her  own  request,  he  said,  and  come  to  see  me  graduate, 
and  hear  my  speech.  He  could  stay  but  one  day,  and 
must  return  the  next  night.  He  had  travelled  right 
through,  day  and  night,  —  and  intended  going  back 
the  same  way,  —  was  of  course  fatigued,  yet  we  talked 
until  daylight;  then  he  dropped  to  sleep;  and  the 
breakfast-bell  aroused  us. 

"  Arthur  escorted  Marie  to  the  Commencement,  and 
my  uncle  sat  among  the  distinguished  guests.  My 
theme  was  ^  Moral  Greatness ; '  and  my  ^  inspiration,' 
Marie  lauo;hino:ly  declared,  was  Arthur  St.  Clair. 

"  Well,  I  graduated;  took  first  honor;  the  degree 
of  A.M.  was  conferred  upon  Arthur;  we  attended  a 
dinner,  given  by  the  President  of  the  Alumni;  and 
altogether,  I  spent  a  day  of  the  most  unalloyed  and 
perfect  happiness. 

"At  twelve  that  night  I  accompanied  your  father  to 
the  depot,  and  he  left  for  the  South. 


214  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

"  I  sj^eiit  the  summer  at  the  difFerent  watering- 
places  with  my  uncle,  and  had  an  embarrassing  time; 
for,  after  the  recollections  of  Commencement  Day,  with 
•tlie  honor  and  gratification  he  felt  in  being  uncle,  and 
guardian  of  the  first-honor  graduate,  had  passed  away, 
he  tried  to  reimburse  himself  for  his  liberality,  by  put- 
ting me  upon  short  rations  with  pocket-money.  The 
dinner  I  gave  to  the  graduating  class,  by  his  express 
command,  at  the  Tontine,  had  taken  every  dollar  I  had 
in  my  possession;  and  being  recognized  everywhere  as 
the  heir  of  my  uncle,  and  the  possessor  of  millions,  the 
demands  of  society  upon  me  were  extravagant.  I 
could  not  bear  to  be  thought  niggardly,  or  mean,  and, 
consequently,  I  went  in  debt.  We  spent  the  winter 
in  Xew  York,  and  I  tried,  by  speculating,  to  supple- 
ment the  pittance  so  grudgingly  doled  out  to  me,  by 
my  miserly  relative. 

^^Your  father's  advice  to  me  when  he  left  me,  was, 
^Go  to  work,  Harry;  study  your  profession  ;  and  don't 
consent,  Avith  your  prestige  and  talents,  to  be  a  pen- 
sioner on  your  uncle's  bounty.  Make  yourself  inde- 
pendent, by  mastering  a  profession  that  will  support 
yourself  and  your  family;  then  if — for  that  ^'if" 
stands  in  your  way  —  if  you  do  get  your  uncle's  prop- 
erty, you  will  be  prepared  to  employ  it  usefully ;  and 
if  you  do  not,  —  which  is  possible,  —  you  will  be  able 
to  do  without  it.  Above  all  things,  my  dear  Harry,' 
he  said,  imploringly,  ^  don't  consent,  with  your  educa- 
tion, to  be  simply  an  appendage  to  your  uncle.'  Your 
father  knew  my  weakness,  Fitz,  for  it  had  manifested 
itself  a  thousand  times  since  he  had  known  me." 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  215 

"You  do  yourself  injustice,  Mr.  Winthrop;  my 
father's  testimony  was  very  different.  Vic  know  you, 
through  his  representation,  only  as  the  embodiment  of 
all  that  is  good,  brave,  and  true." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop,  wiping 
his  eyes ;  "  he  never  made  me  an  enemy.  Oh,  that  I 
had  been  more  worthy  of  his  love !  I  will  go  on  with 
my  story,  and  you  will  see  that  he  loved  me,  not  be- 
cause I  had  no  faults,  but  in  spite  of  them.  I  told 
you  I  went  into  speculating,  instead  of  going  into 
leo-itimate  labor  —  and  lost  seven  thousand  dollars. 

"  I  could  not  apply  to  my  uncle,  so,  like  all  gam- 
blers, I  determined  to  risk  more,  in  order  to  win  back 
Avhat  I  had  lost,  and  I  actually  dared  to  get  on  my 
knees,  and  insult  my  Maker  by  begging  him  to  help 
me  win  enough  to  pay  my  debts,  and  I  solemnly 
vowed,  if  he  would  only  help  me  this  time,  I  would 
never  touch  a  card  again.  I  staked,  and  lost,  played 
again  and  again,  with  no  better  result,  until  I  became 
desperate.  You  see  what  I  got,  Fitz,  for  trying  to 
dodge  the  curse  that  '  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow '  I 
should  earn  my  bread.  This  trying  to  escape  labor 
(and  by  that  I  mean  work)  is  the  cause  of  nearly  all 
the  trouble  that  is  in  this  world.  Men  will  turn  any 
short  corner  to  escape  work.  How  is  it  with  you  at 
the  South  now?  The  most  ignorant  darkey  will  sub- 
ject himself  to  be  the  ridicule  of  the  world,  and  go  to 
making  idiotic  speeches,  rather  than  good  ilint-corn. 
I  tell  you  it  is  the  curse  of  the  race,  white  and  black, 
this   intense  hatred   of  legitimate  labor,  and    if  the 


216  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

Southern  boys  would  go  to  manly  labor,  and  become 
intelligent,  scientific  mechanics,  and  build  manufac- 
tories and  manufacturing  towns,  the  South  ^vould  come 
up  like  a  Phoenix  from  her  ashes,  and  not  the  North- 
ern States  alone,  but  tlie  whole  world,  would  recognize 
-her  power.  The  South  has  advantages  in  her  climate, 
and  her  working-class,  unsurpassed  in  the  world.  Ed- 
ucate the  colored  man  to  know  his  true  interest,  and 
let  him  see  that  you  believe  what  you  teach,  that 
'there  is  no  disgrace  in  labor,'  and  that  the  world 
over,  '  ignorance  on  stilts  is  fair  game.'  The  Southern 
jDCople  are  the  only  true  friends  the  negro  has,  and 
they  know  it  now,  and  will  know  it  better  ten  years 
hence,  when  they  have  proved  the  knaves  who  are 
deluding  and  making  tools  of  them,  to  elevate  them- 
selves into  positions  where  they  may  defraud  and 
embezzle.  Have  patience ;  remember  the  faithfulness 
of  your  slaves  to  you  during  the  war,  and  the  dizzy 
height  to  which  they  have  been  elevated — not  only  put 
on  an  equality  with  you,  but  made  your  masters  and 
given  your  property.  Can  you  wonder  that  their 
heads  have  been  turned,  and  that  they  act  often  like 
madmen,  or  idiots?  I  do  not  wonder;  but  wait 
patiently,  until  the  reaction  comes.  Mind  is  power, 
and  a  return  to  common  sense  wdll  show  them  that,  if 
they  wish  to  be  prosperous  and  happy,  they  must 
respect  the  laws  of  honesty,  justice,  and  truth.  You 
are  not  wise  at  the  South ;  you  let  unprincipled  waifs 
take  your  places  and  teach  your  colored  people  what 
will  ruin  them,  and  you,  too,  while  you  stand  by  in 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  217 

dignified  silence.  I  don't  tell  you  to  go  to  the  hust- 
ings and  harangue  them,  but  talk  to  them  quietly, 
and  let  them  feel  that  those  who  teach  them  to  injure, 
insult,  and  despise  you,  are  their  enemies,  and  are 
uro-ino;  them  on  to  ruin.  If  the  white  race  and  the 
black  race  are  to  live  together  prosperous  and  happy, 
they  must  do  so  in  peace.  The  South  is  a  great  field, 
and  while  the  husbandmen  are  asleep,  the  enemy  is 
sowino;  tares,  which  will  brino;  a  harvest  of  evil.  If 
I  were  a  leader  among  you,  I  would  say,  wake  up  and 
go  to  work ;  build  your  manufactories,  and  put  your 
school-houses  right  next  door  to  them ;  don't  talk 
politics ;  talk  work,  and  let  Cuffee  see  that  ])olitics  are 
not  the  only  things  to  be  thought  about,  for  they  are 
the  very  meanest  of  all  kinds  of  -tics;  besides,  they 
will  be  bound  to  come  right,  when  other  things  get 
straight.  The  owner  of  a  large  manufiictory  can, 
without  opening  his  lips  on  the  subject  of  politics,  con- 
trol several  hundred  votes ;  for  who  would  vote  for 
Cudjoe,'or  any  such  scamp,  if  the  men  who  supplied 
them  with  work,  and  built  the  school-house  where  they 
were  taught  to  read  and  write,  would  consent  to  accept 
their  suffrage.  I  am  hopeful  for  the  South,  notwith- 
standing the  terrible  wrongs  that  are  being  perpetrated 
by  the  Government  upon  her,  and  if  the  young  men 
of  the  South  will  only  rise  to  the  emergency,  and  not 
be  entrapped,  as  I  was,  into  all  kinds  of  gambling 
schemes  to  evade  work,  all  will  be  well.     Don't  forget, 

'The  mill  can  never  grind 
"With  the  water  that  has  passe^l.' 
19 


218  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

And  it  is  impossible  for 

*  —  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards, 
To  ennoble  fools,  or  knaves,  or  cowards.' 

^^  It  is  not  poverty,  but  pretence,  that  makes  us  mis- 
erable. No  man  is  poor  who  has  health,  strength,  and 
character.  But,  dear  me  !  how  I  have  been  led  off.  I 
am  so  anxious  to  prevent  any  one  else  shipwrecking  on 
the  rock  that  came  so  near  foundering  my  little  barque, 
that  I  never  pass  it  without  anchoring  a  buoy  along- 
side of  it.     I  will  go  on  now. 

"I  had  no  profession,  no  trade;  owed  thousands  of 
dollars,  with  no  immediate  prospect  of  paying  it,  and 
every  prospect  of  being  exposed  to  my  uncle ;  for  my 
creditors  held  this  lash  over  my  back  to  extort  every 
farthing  of  my  poor,  miserable  allowance  from  me. 
My  clothes  were  worn ;  and  the  fact  is,  I  slept,  moved, 
and  walked  upon  a  volcano,  which  threatened  every 
moment  to  explode  beneath  my  feet. 

"  Since  the  great  Maker  of  heaven  and  earth  had 
disappointed  me,  by  not  going  into  the  gambling  bus- 
iness with  me,  I  had  resolved  to  make  no  more  re- 
cpiests  of  Him.  I  smoked  and  drank,  and  was  under 
the  influence  of  tobacco  and  whiskey  all  the  time.  At 
length,  I  determined  to  leave  the  country,  and  place 
the  ocean  between  my  creditors  and  myself.  This  act, 
of  course,  would  be  equivalent  to  resigning  all  claim 
to  my  uncle's  property,  and  to  the  hand  of  one  whom 
I  felt  too  unworthy  ever  to  marry.  Marie,  with  w^o- 
man's  unerring  tact,  suspected  all  was  not  right,  and 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.   CLAIR.  219 

entreated  ine  to  give  li^r  my  confidence.  She  wrote : 
^  You  are  not  liap])y,  Harry,  and  I  beg  the  privilege 
of  sharing  your  sorrows,  as  I  have  done  your  joys, 
with  you ; '  but  I  gave  no  confidence  to  either  your 
father  or  Marie,  —  the  facts  were  too  humiliating.  I 
resolved  to  go  away,  and  leave  them  to  find  out  my 
disgrace  after  I  had  gone.  I  wrote  out  my  confession 
to  your  fiither,  not  attempting  to  excuse  myself,  for  I 
knew  I  had  no  one  but  my  own  one  self  to  blame.  I 
had  been  too  lazy  to  work,  and  there  is  only  one  other 
alternative  —  to  steal ;  I  had  done  that,  and  was  now 
paying  the  penalty  of  my  foolishness ;  and  God  knows 
there  is  no  greater  torment  than  to  be  in  the  crucible 
of  debt. 

'^  I  sealed  and  directed  my  letter.  I  had  devolved 
it  upon  your  father  to  break  the  news  to  ISIarie ;  and 
sat  thinking  of  the  sorrow  I  was  about  to  inflict  upon 
the  young  and  gentle  girl  who  trusted  me  so  confid- 
ingly, when  the  door  opened,  and  three  or  four  of  the 
sporting  crowd  my  prospective  wealth  had  attracted  to 
me,  came  in. 

"  They  rallied  me  on  my  sober  looks ;  asked  me  ^  if 
I  was  contemplating  suicide,'  —  moral  suicide,  I  said 
to  myself.  They  called  for  cigars,  liquor,  and  tobacco; 
and,  after  they  had  smoked,  chewed,  and  drank,  pro- 
posed that  I  should  go  down  and  '  try  my  luck  '  once 
more,  saying, 

'Fretting  ain't  no  kind  of  use: 
And,  if  the  tirst  throw  fails, 
Why,  np  and  try  again,  that 's  all  — 
The  coppers  ain't  all  tails.' 


220  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAITw. 

"  A  year  ago,  this  doggerel  would  have  filled  me 
with  disgust :  but  liquor  makes  a  beast  of  every  mau 
who  drinks  it.  I  caught  at  the  suggestion,  and  re- 
peated to  myself,  over  and  over,  'The  coj^pers  ain't  all 
tails;'  and  so  I  resolved  to  try  my  luck  again.  I 
staked  recklessly,  and  lost  everything,  except  the 
clothes  I  had  on.  I  went  to  my  room,  and  there,  to 
my  mortification,  joy,  surprise,  grief — I  found  your 
father!  My  room  was  foul  with  pent-up  tobacco- 
smoke;  upon  the  table  were  unwashed  glasses,  and 
empty  decanters,  while  dirty  spittoons  were  at  every 
chair.  How  different,  I  could  but  think,  from  any 
room  he  had  ever  occupied. 

"He  was  lying  on  the  lounge,  but  not  asleep;  and 
as  soon  as  I  entered,  he  rose  to  meet  me.  As  he  held 
my  hand  in  his  own  warm  clasp,  he  fixed  on  me  his 
beautiful  spiritual  eyes,  and  said,  as  tenderly  as  a 
woman,  '  Is  it  well  with  the  lad  ? ' 

"That  was  the  text  of  the  sermon  to  which  I 
ascribed  my  conviction,  and  conversion,  three  years  ago, 
and  he  could  not  have  touched  a  chord  that  would 
have  vibrated  sooner ;  it  broke  my  heart.  I  saw  my- 
self so  low  and  debased,  that  I  begged  him  to  leave  me, 
and  not  contaminate  himself  by  remaining  where  I 
was.  But  he  soothed  me,  comforted  me,  sympathized 
with  me,  until  I  threw  my  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
wept  out  my  repentance. 

"  When  I  commenced  my  confession,  he  showed  me 
my  letter,  and  told  me  to  spare  myself,  for  '  he  knew 
it  all ;  and  only  wanted  to  know  what  I  was  going 
to  do  about  paying  my  debts.' 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  221 

"I  told  him  I  was  utterly  insolvent;  never  could 
pay  them,  so  I  was  going  to  run  away  from  them. 

"  He  looked  at  me  sorrowfully,  and  said,  '  What 
has  become  of  your  sense  of  honor,  Harry?  When 
did  you  learn  that  two  wrongs  make  a  right  ?  You 
must  pay  every  dollar,  and  buy  yourself  free,  for  you 
are  a  slave  now,  to  the  most  tyrannical  master.' 

"  I  told  him  it  was  utterly  impossible,  and  to  stay 
here  with  the  sword  of  Damocles  suspended  over  my 
head,  I  would  not. 

''  The  next  morning  he  asked  me  to  make  a  clear,  and 
correct  statement,  of  every  dollar  I  owed,  and  after 
examining  my  accounts  fully,  he  drew  checks  for  the 
entire  amount,  and,  handing  them  to  me,  said,  ^  Now, 
Harry,  you  must  go  to  work  ;  commence  the  study  of 
your  profession,  and  either  release  INIarie,  or  marry  her.' 

" '  Marry  her ! '  I  exclaimed ;  ^  preposterous.  Marie 
marry  a  beggar !    I  would  scorn  to  ask  such  a  sacrifice.' 

"  I  asked  him  how  he  had  happened  in  New  York,  at 
such  an  opportune  moment?  He  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  letter  from  Marie  to  him,  in  which  she  made 
known  her  convictions ;  that  ^  I  was  in  trouble,  some 
great  trouble,  and  begged  him  to  come'  on  to  my 
assistance.' 

"  Before  he  left  New  York,  he  called,  and  spent  the 
entire  morning  with  my  uncle,  which  resulted  in  the 
old  gentleman's  commissioning  him  to  ^rent  a  furnished 
house  in  the  city,'  and  my  immediate  marriage.  Your 
father  took  dinner  with  us,  in  our  new  home,  the  day 
after  I  brought  my  bride  to  the  city,  and  I  went  as  far 
19* 


222  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

South  with  liim  as  Wtishington.  That  was  the  last 
time  I  saw  him,  Fitz.  AVe  were  al)road  six  years  after 
I  graduated  in  law.  My  uncle  sent  me  to  investi- 
gate the  aifairs  of  his  European  business  houses ;  and 
in  that  way  we  never  met.  ^ly  uncle  died  only  a  few 
months  ago,  so  that  I  never  had  it  in  my  power  to  pay 
my  debt,  which,  with  its  added  interest,  amounts  now  to 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars.  Your  father  and  myself 
each  of  us  insured  our  lives  for  ten  thousand  dollars,  in 
two  different  life  insurance  companies  ;  I  have  kept  his 
policy  paid  up,  and  paid  the  war-risk,  too ;  so  that  your 
mother  will  have  twenty  thousand  dollars,  from  that 
investment. 

"  I  wrote  as  soon  as  I  got  back,  and  directed  my 
letters  to  Beaufort,  but  they  have  all  been  returned, 
through  the  dead-letter  office." 

"Papa,  can't  we  borrow  Fitz  for  a  drive,  if  we 
solemnly  promise  to  return  him  in  time  for  dinner,'' 
said  Lucie,  coming  up  to  them,  dressed  for  the  drive. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Winthrop,  "  and 
as  Fitz  and  I  intend  going  South  next  week,  I  would 
advise  you.  to  make  the  most  of  us  while  you  have  us, 
for  I  don't  know  when  we  will  come  back." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE   MEETING   BETWEEN    FITZ   AND    HIS   MOTHER. 

IT  was  acrain  Sabbath,  and  Fitz  was  going  to  church; 
only  one  week  had  passed  since  he  went  before, 
l:)ut  how  much  liad  been  crowded  into  it,  and  what 
depths  and  heights  had  he  not  reached;  next  Sab- 
bath he  would  be  with  his  own  darling  mother.  His 
eyes  sparkled,  and  his  cheeks  glowed,  as  the  prospect 
came  up  before  him.  He  was  sitting  opposite  Mrs. 
AVinthrop,  in  her  elegant  phaeton,  waiting  for  the  rest 
of  the  party  to  come  out. 

"  Fitz,  you  actually  look  radiant  this  morning,"  said 
]Mrs.  Winthrop,  as  she  observed  his  beaming  smile. 

''  Do  you  mean  radiantly  beautiful,  mamma  mine  ?  " 
said  Lucie.  "  Papa  and  yourself  have  combined  to 
spoil  Fitz,  — you  never  call  me  radiant,"  she  said,  pre- 
tending to  pout. 

"  I  mean  radiantly  hai)py,  saucy  one ;  and  happi- 
ness, you  know,  is  a  great  beautifier." 

"  Oh,  let  you  alone,  mamma.  You  are  unequalled  in 
the  art  of  l^aying  compliments ;  but  you  do  not  seem 
to  be  alone  in  your  admiration  of  Fitz,  for  that  party 

223 


224  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

in  the  carriage  are  sharing  it  witli  you,  and  staring 
like  wild  at  him." 

The  carriage  referred  to  was  a  public  coach  ;  framed 
in  the  window,  was  a  lovely,  pale.  Madonna  face,  with 
exquisitely  chiselled  features,  a  close-fitting  widow's 
cap,  and  crape  veil.  Fitz  had  not  observed  the  coach 
until  Lucie  spoke :  one  glance,  and  with  the  exclama- 
tion, "  mother ! "  he  cleared  the  door  with  a  bound,  and 
stood  at  the  window  of  the  coach.  No  mother  re- 
sponded to  the  glad  greeting,  however,  but  an  insen- 
sible form,  was  borne  by  the  captain  and  Mr.  Winthrop 
into  the  house. 

"  Is  she  dead  ?  "  w^eepingly  asked  Lucie. 

"  No,  missis,'^  said  Maum  Clarissa ;  "  she  'spected 
to  find  Mass  Fitz  dead,  but  finding  him  well  and 
happy,  overcomed  her." 

Fitz  bathed  the  cold  hands  with  his  tears,  and  kissed 
the  silent  lips,  while  Mrs.  Winthrop  and  the  doctor 
applied  restoratives. 

"  She  never  closed  her  eyes,"  explained  the  captain, 
"  during  the  entire  passage ;  and  the  reaction  is  too 
great." 

"  O  mother  !  darling  mother  !  "  piteously  cried  Fitz, 
"  it  would  be  too  hard  to  lose  you  now." 

Mr.  Winthrop  was  completely  unmanned  at  the 
sight  of  the  beautiful  wreck,  and  wept  aloud. 

It  was  long  before  the  sad,  soft  eyes  unclosed  :  then 
they  became  fixed  on  Fitz,  as  though  she  was  not 
certain  it  was  he. 

"  It  is  your  Fitz,  mamma.     We  are  at  Uncle  Win- 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  225 

tlirop's,  and  I  am  happier  than  I  ever  expected  to  be  in 
this  world  again." 

A  gentle  pressure  of  the  hand  told  him  she  knew 
what  he  was  saying. 

Hans  —  impulsive  boy  !  —  had  written  to  her  on  the 
Sunday  when  Fitz  was  arrested.  He  only  wrote  a  few 
lines,  but  enough  to  have  made  her  cross  the  Atlantic, 
if  her  boy  had  been  there.     The  letter  read  : 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  : 

Fitz  has  gone,  in  ter  rain,  mit  a  constable,  to  the 
jail,  for  teafing  diamonds.     Ach  mein  Gott ! 

Hans. 

Fitz  arrested  for  stealing !  "What  did  it  mean  ? 
Had  his  love  for  her  induced  him  to  commit  this 
dreadful  crime  to  supply  her  needs  ?  Bitterly  she  re- 
proached herself,  for  allowing  him  to  make  her  such 
generous  remittances,  ^yhat  could  she  have  been 
thinking  about,  thus  to  sacrifice  her  child  ?  But,  no  ! 
it  could  not  be !  Nothing  would  have  tempted  Fitz 
to  commit  such  a  deed.     Impossible  ! 

Her  constant  prayer  was :  ^'  O  merciful  Saviour, 
let  me  not  lose  my  senses,  until  my  child  is  safe." 
She  thought  she  had  suffered  before,  but  this  was  the 
bitterest  drop  in  her  overflowing  cup,  and  in  agony, 
she  prayed,  "Let  it  pass  from  me,  my  pitying  Saviour." 

Only  a  few  hours  before,  she  had  received  the 
bright,  cheerful.  Christian  letter,  that  Fitz  WTote  after 
his  return  from  church,  and  the  same  mail  had  brought 
her,  from  one  of  those  angels  of  mercy  in  Baltimore, 


226  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

fifty  dollars  to  buy  a  sewing-machine.  From  her  soul 
she  had  blessed  the  generous,  Christian  friends,  whose 
whole  mission  since  the  war  has  been  to  send  sunshine 
from  their  own  bright,  beautiful  Athol,  to  tlie  dark  and 
desolated  homes  of  our  ruined  South-land. 

"  What  comfort  this  money  will  bring  me,"  she  said 
to  Rena ;  "  how  it  wdll  save  my  poor,  wept-out  eyes 
to  get  a  whole  night's  rest.  I  really  began  to  realize 
to-day  that  I  w^as 

'Sewing  with  a  double  thread 
A  shroud,  as  well  as  a  shirt.' " 

She  had  said  "  the  money  would  bring  her  comfort," 
but  how  little  she  knew  in  w^hat  way;  even  before  she 
had  transferred  it  to  her  purse,  that  dreadful  letter  came, 
and  the  heaven-directed  gift  from  ^'  the  blessed  hand  " 
enabled  the  crushed  and  broken-hearted  motlier,  to  go 
to  her  boy  in  a  felon's  cell. 

She  handed  the  bill  to  Uncle  Jack,  and  told  him  to 
purchase  a  ticket  for  her,  to  go  North;  then  falling  on 
her  knees,  with  clasped  hands  and  streaming  eyes, 
she  prayed ;  "  God  of  the  fatherless  and  the  widow, 
bless  the  people  of  Baltimore,  who,  in  our  destitu- 
tion and  sorrow,  with  generous  hearts  and  patient 
hands,  came  to  our  relief.  May  they  find  in  Thee, 
O  Heavenly  Father,  a  friend  in  time,  in  death, 
and  in  eternity."  And  to  this  prayer  the  whole 
South  will  say  Amen ;  for  in  every  household,  tlie 
names  of  Howard,  Thomas,  Smith,  Bankard,  Git- 
tings,  and  Harrison,  the  officers  of  that  noble  char- 
ity—  the    "Southern    Relief    Fair,"  —  are    familiar 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  227 

to  the  youngest  child,  and  eternity  only  will  reveal 
the  misery  and  destitution  relieved  by  their  heaven- 
inspired  charity.  "  Ye  did  it  unto  Me,"  says  the 
Master.    "  Ye  did  it  unto  me." 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  took  passage  in  the  same  steamer,  in 
which  Fitz  had  gone  Xorth.  The  Captain,  after  see- 
ing her  extreme  feebleness,  sent  Uncle  Jack  for  his 
wife,  and  offered  her  a  free  passage  to  go  with  Mrs. 
St.  Clair  as  her  nurse. 

When   they  reached   Ncsv   York,   Captain    L ■ 

took  a  carriage  and  accompanied  Mrs.  St.  Clair  in  her 
search  for  Fitz,  and  they  found  him  under  the  circum- 
stances we  have  already  described. 

The  Captain  explained  to  him,  as  soon  as  he  had  an 
opportunity,  the  cause  of  his  leaving  the  steamer  so 
abruptly,  the  day  he  landed  him  in  New  York.  He 
went  up  to  a  merchant's  counting-house,  he  said,  to  try 
and  get  him  a  situation,  which  he  succeeded  in  doing, 
and  returned  to  find  he  had  left  the  steamer  for,  no  one 
knew  where. 

"  His  steps  were  heaven-directed,"  said  INIr.  Win- 
throp ;  "  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  those 
who  love  God." 

Despite  JNIrs.  St.  Clair's  most  desperate  efforts,  she 
could  not  raise  her  head  the  day  the  Adger  sailed  for 
Charleston.  So  she  had  to  stay  over  a  trip,  and  old 
Aunt  Clarissa  went  back  "  to  take  care  of  her  chil- 
dren till  Mistiss  returned ; "  but  the  fact  is,  she  was 
sent  back  for  the  family.  Uncle  Jack  included. 

Mr.  Winthrop  hired  the  faithful  old  fellow,  for  his 
coachman.    One  morning,  as  he  was  driving  Mr.  Win- 


228  FITZ-HUGH    ST.   CLAIR. 

tlirop,  and  two  other  lawyers,  into  the  city,  to  attend  a 
political  meeting,  one  of  the  gentlemen,  with  a  sly  wink 
at  Mr.  Winthrop,  commenced  a  conversation  with  Jack. 

"  Uncle  Jack,"  he  asked,  "  won't  yon  go  in  with  us 
and  give  us  a  speech  on  the  Amendment  Bill,  to-day  ?'' 

"  Where's  the  mending  to  be  done,  master?"  asked 
the  old  fellow ;  "  'cause,  if  you  don't  make  haste,  and 
stop  mending  at  the  South,  there  won't  be  a  speck  of 
it  left  to  mend." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Jack,  can't  you  get  up  and  tell  them 
so,  in  the  meeting?  for  there  is  more  sense  in  your 
speech  than  we  will  have,  if  we  simmer  the  speeches 
we  are  to  be  bored  with,  all  into  one." 

^'  No,  sir,  I  can't,"  promptly  responded  the  old 
darkey.  "  Speeching  ain't  my  trade — I  warn't  fotched 
up  to  speechify ;  I  am  Jack,  but  not  Jack-of-all-trades ; 
and  I  got  too  much  respeck  for  my  broughten  up,  to 
make  an  ass  of  myself,  and  go  to  braying  like  some  of 
my  color  do.  Driving  is  my  trade;  I  was  raised  at  it; 
and  it 's  powerful  hard  for  an  old  dog  to  learn  new 
tricks  :  so  here 's  one  what  ain't  going  to  try." 

"  You  are  right,  old  fellow ;  and  it 's  a  great  pity 
more  of  your  race  had  not  your  good  sound  sense." 

^'  Boss,  I  don't  mean  to  be  unpolite,  nor  nothing  of 
that  sort,  but  the  fact  is,  the  cullud  people  ain't  to 
blame;  it's  the  low  wliite  folks,  what  swept  down 
there  for  the  pickings,  that  makes  them  make  fools  of 
theirselves.  They  ain't  succeeded  in  fooling  all  of  us, 
though  —  they  can't  throw  sand  in  old  Uncle  Jack's 
eyes.  'Spectable  folk  is  the  same  everywhere,  and  if 
they  ain't  'spectable  here^  coming  South  don't  make 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  229 

ihem  so.  They  fret  and  fume,  'cause  our  vdiitc  folk 
don't  take  them  to  their  society.  Why,  they  don't 
know  what  society  is;  they  never  was  in  society  —  good 
society,  I  mean — where  tliey  come  from.  If  they  had 
fotched  their  letters  with  them,  they  would  get  into 
society  soon  enough.  i\Iass  Harry,"  he  said,  turning 
to  Mr.  Winthrop,  "you've  stayed  months  at  a  time 
in  the  South,  —  was  you  ever  snubbed,  or  any  of  the 
rest  of  the  Northern  white  folk,  who  used  to  come  to 
Glendaire  every  winter  ?  —  did  you  ever  see  any  of 
them    ill-treated?" 

"  No,  Uncle  Jack ;  and  no  genteel  Northerner,  who 
knows  what  good  breeding  is,  and  has  sense  enough  to 
behave  himself,  will  '  be  snubbed,'  as  you  call  it  now." 

'^That's  so.  Mass  Harry,  and  I  think  it's  rale  im- 
pident  for  these  promiscuous  white  folk  to  'speck 
to  be  invited  by  our  Quality.  The  fact  is,"  he  said, 
scratching  his  wool,  as  if  the  words  hung  fire,  "  it 
would  be  a  great  'sponsibility  on  the  servants  a-watch- 
ing  of  them,  marster." 

This  honest,  plain  avowal  of  Uncle  Jack's  opinion 
caused  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  Uncle  Jack,"  asked  Colonel  D ,  "  do  you  think 

the  negro  is  a  superior  man,  to  the  white  man  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  think  he  is." 

"You  do?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  really  does  think  the  negro  is  a  supe- 
rior negro  man;  he  ain't  a  white  man,  —  he  warn 't 
meant  to  be.  God  could  have  made  him  white,  if  He 
had  wanted  to ;  and  he  had  a  wise  reason  for  not  do- 
20 


230  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

iiig  it,  I  know.  AVhcn  I  look  in  the  glass  and  see  my 
AvooUy  head,  and  my  black  face,  I  know  I  don't  belong 
to  the  vrhite  race ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  white 
folk  ain't  any  better  off,  for  they  don't  belong  to  the 
black  race,  —  so  who's  got  the  advantage?  If  color 
was  all  the  difference  between  us,  I  would  n't  give  a 
toss,  for  the  odds  is  the  difference ;  and  to  my  think- 
ing, when  my  old  woman  was  a  gal,  she  had  the  pur- 
tiest  mahogany-colored  face  ever  I  seed,  on  white  or 
black, — leastwise  I  wouldn't  have  swapped  it  for 
none.  And  I  think  it's  mighty  unthankful,  when 
God  took  extra  pains  to  color  us,  and  kink  up  our  hair, 
for  us  to  be  grumbling  about  it.  We 's  all  dissatisfied, 
though.  Boss :  the  white  mistisses  paints  their  foces  'cause 
they  ain't  colored  enough,  and  burns  half  the  hair  from 
their  heads,  to  get  it  to  kink  up  like  colored  folkses ; 
and  so  we  all  go  on  changing  God's  work,  as  if  we  could 
improve  it,  'stead  of  being  satisfied  as  he  made  us.  I 
would  n't  wonder  if  he  should  get  angry,  and  turn  us 
like  zebras;  then  we  could  do  as  the  leopard  can't  do  — 
if  we  did  n't  like  one  spot,  we  could  change  our  eye  to 
another." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Jack,  what  do  you  think  of  this  mix- 
ing up  races  —  whites  and  blacks?" 

"I  just  done  telling  you  what  I  thought,  Boss  ; 
'tain't  God's  way.  You  ever  see  fowls  and  ducks 
mate,  or  turkeys  and  geese  ?  We  talks  a  heap  about 
our  sense,  and  don't  positively  show  as  much  as  a 
goose.  We  are  poor  creatures,  the  very  best  of  us.  I 
only  wonder  our  foolishness  don't  wear  God's  patience 
clean  out ;  but  here  we  are.     Whoa  —  " 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

LIFE   AT   NEWPORT. 

A  S  soon  as  the  warm  weather  set  in,  Mr.  Winthrop 
-^^  moved  the  entire  family  to  Newport,  and  a  happy 
family  they  were.  The  joy  was  so  contagious,  that 
even  Mrs.  St.  Clair's  j^ale,  pensive  face,  was  now  some- 
times lighted  by  a  smile,  so  sadly  sweet,  it  reminded 
one  more  of  chastened  sorrow  than  of  joy,  however. 

During  the  first  of  the  season,  Rena  and  Lucie  were 
inseparable,  and  Arthur  and  Fitz  rode,  drove,  sailed, 
walked,  read,  and  seemed  to  live  only  in  each  other's 
society. 

After  a  time,  they  ^^  changed  partners,"  for  Arthur 
preferred  to  have  the  lovely  spirituelle  Rena,  with 
her  dreamy  brown  eyes,  transparent  complexion, 
and  low,  gentle  voice,  to  occupy  the  seat  at  his  side 
behind  his  dashing  bays,  as  he  drove  to  Easton's 
Beach,  and  this  arrangement  made  Fitz  and  Lucie 
dependent  on  each  other  for  company. 

"  Surf-bathing ''  had  been  prescribed  by  the  physi- 
cian for  Rena,  but  she  was  so  timid,  it  was  long  before 
slie  could  muster  courage  enough  to  venture. 

231 


232  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

The  grandeur  and  sublimity,  of  the  vast  and  mighty 
ocean,  whose  majestic  billows  broke  in  foam  beneath 
her  feet,  and  the  tremendous  roar  of  the  surf,  so  in- 
timidated her,  that,  again  and  again,  she  would  return 
from  the  beach,  and  remove  the  jaunty  bathing-suit, 
as  dry  as  when  she  donned  it. 

Fitz  used  to  say  '^she  was  waiting  until  she  learned 
to  swim,  before  she  ventured  to  go  into  the  water." 

Lucie  would  plunge  in,  and  scream  with  delight,  as 
the  breakers  dashed  over  her  head,  and  at  length 
Arthur  succeeded  in  getting  Rena  to  venture,  and  was 
ever  after,  her  self-appointed  protector. 

One  day  little  Marie,  who  had  been  sitting  watching 
the  bathers  very  thoughtfully,  said  to  her  brother 
Arthur,  who  came  and  sat  by  her,  (until  the  girls 
changed  their  bathing-suits,)  ^^  Brother  Arthur,  what 
makes  you  hold  sister  Rena,  as  if  you  were  afraid  the 
waves  would  wash  her  away  from  you  ?  " 

^'  I  am  afraid,  little  one,  for  sister  Rena  is  such  a 
frail  little  spirit,  that  when  I  am  driving  out  sometimes, 
and  the  wind  tosses  her  light  curls,  it  startles  me ;  I 
look  to  see  if  she  has  not  been  blown  away." 

^^  ^Yould  you  be  very  sorry,  Arty  ?  " 

"  Would  you  ?  "  asked  he,  by  way  of  reply. 

''  Oh,  ever  so  sorry,"  she  said,  "  for  sister  Rena  is 
the  beautifullest,  and  best  sister  in  the  world ;  but  I 
always  feel  like  crying  when  I  look  in  her  eyes ;  they 
seem  to  be  looking  away  off  in  the  skies,  after  her 
papa,  and  her  little  sister  May.  Don't  you  never 
think  so?" 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIll.  233 

"Yes,  little  Mnrie,  sister  Rcna  has  known  a  world  of 
sorrow,  ami,  like  Fitz,  cannot  get  over  her  father's  death. 
AVe  must  all  unite  and  cheat  her  into  forgetful ness." 

"  I  unite  all  tlic  time  to  do  it,"  said  Marie  ;  "  I  have 
got  some  sugar-plums  for  her  now,"  opening  her  little, 
chubby  hand,  and  showing  some  half  melted  bon-bons, 
much  to  Arthur's  amusement. 

Rena  and  Lucie,  although  they  attended  no  public 
balls,  were  the  acknowledged  belles  of  Newport. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  '  beautiful  sisters '  ?  ^^  was  the 
first  question  asked  of  all  new-comers. 

"  What  do  they  look  like  ?  '^  asked  a  young  man,  of 
an  enthusiastic  admirer. 

"Look  like?  Why,  like  angels  who  have  strayed 
out  of  paradise,  as  gentle .  and  as  spirltuelle,  as  we 
imagine  those  pure  spirits  to  be.  They  are  so  natural 
and  unaffected,  it  is  actually  (in  this  age  of  artifice  and 
sham)  refreshing  to  see  tliem." 

"  Why,  old  fellow,  you  are  surely  not  in  love  with 
both  of  them,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  unfortunately  I  am,  and  w^ith  not  the  ghost 
of  a  chance  of  getting  either,  for  Arty  Winthrop  will 
not  let  me  get  within  speaking  distance  of  Miss  St. 
Clair,  and  until  quite  recently,  St.  Clair  has  monopo- 
lized Miss  Winthrop." 

"  Until  recently ;  "  he  spoke  correctly,  for  Fitz  was 
no  longer  to  be  found  at  Lucie's  side.  An  estrange- 
ment seemed  to  have  taken  place,  and  a  restraint  and 
coolness  marked  their  intercourse,  greatly  to  the  grief 
of  the  parents. 

20* 


234  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

It  was  the  first  time  Fitz  liad  ever  withheld  his  con- 
fidence from  his  mother,  but  she  knew  it  was  only  for 
a  time,  and  waited. 

He  would  often  bring  a  book  into  her  room,  and 
spend  the  morning  reading  to  her,  wliile  Lucie,  Rena, 
Arthur,  and  others  would  drive  out  to  "  Kendall's 
Mills,''  or  spend  the  day  amid  the  grove  of  sycamores, 
skirting  the  base  of  the  hill,  from  whose  summit  the 
extended  prospect  of  island  and  ocean  spread  out  with 
most  enchanting  beauty. 

To-day  the  whole  family  had  gone  to  "Coasters' 
Harbor  Island"  for  a  picnic.  Mrs.  St.  Clair  had 
spent  the  day  alone  in  her  room.  Late  in  the  after- 
noon she  walked  out  on  the  piazza,  and  was  thinking 
sadly,  yet  gratefully,  too,  over  her  eventful  past,  when 
Fitz  came  up,  and  kissing  her,  seated  himself  at  her 
side,  leaned  his  head  on  her  slioulder,  and  said,  wearily, 

'■'■  Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother  ; 
Rock  me  to  skep." 

"  What  has  tired  my  poor  boy  ?  "  asked  his  gentle 
mother,  placing  her  soft,  cool  hand  upon  his  fevered 
brow.  "  I  had  hoped  he  Avas  one  of  the  happy  ma- 
rooners  to  the  island.  Why  did  you  not  go,  my  son?" 
"I  did  not  wish  to  be  in  the  way,  mamma." 
"  Was  that,  under  any  circumstances,  ever  so,  ray 
boy?'' 

"  I  hope  not ;  I  take  great  care  to  prevent  it." 
"  Fitz,  has  Lucie  given  you  occasion  to  think  your 
presence  undesirable  ?  " 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.   CLAIR.  235 

"Liicic,  mamma,  do  anytliing  unkind?  Oh,  no! 
she  could  be  no  kinder  to  me,  if  I  were  her  own 
brother." 

"  And  how  is  it  with  you,  Fitz :  are  you  as  kind 
to  her?" 

"  Mamma,  I  try  to  act  as  a  young  man  in  my  cir- 
cumstances should ;  I  am  too  poor  to  compete  for 
Lucie's  hand,  with  the  wealthy  suitors  who  are  aspiring 
for  the  boon.  She  is  lovely,  accomplished,  wealthy, 
worthy  to  form  an  alliance  with  the  nobleman  who  is 
now  addressing  her.  My  position  in  the  family  gives 
me  great  privileges,  but  I  scorn  to  take  advantage  of 
them,  to  ask  any  more  than  Lucie  gives  me  —  ^  a  sis- 
ter's lov^e.'  I  cannot  be  ungenerous  enough  to  stand 
in  the  way  of  her  happiness." 

"  Why  should  you  accuse  Lucie  of  what  you  would 
scorn  to  be  accused  of  yourself?  What  have  you  ever 
seen,  to  make  you  arrive  at  the  conclusion  you  have, 
namely,  ^that  she  is  mercenary  and  calculating'?" 

^^  Xo,  no,  mother;  you  misjudge  me;  far  be  it  from 
me,  to  even  think  such  a  libel  on  the  dear  girl,  much 
less  insinuate  it :  I  will  be  plain.  Lord  Mordaunt  told 
me  I  ^ stood  in  the  way  of  his  suit;'  and  I  imme- 
diately withdrew.  And  I  come  to  ask  your  consent 
to  go  to  Europe,  in  October,  with  Hans,  and  prepare 
myself  for  my  duties." 

"  I  must  think  it  over,  Fitz ;  for  I  am  not  at  all 
sure  that  you  are  not  crushing  Lucie's  poor  young 
heart,  as  well  as  your  own." 

"Mother,  dear  mother!"  he  said,  starting  up,  "don't, 


236  FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAITw. 

I  beseech  you,  raise  such  hopes;  and  particuhirly  when 
I  have  just  succeeded  in  trampling  tlicm  under  my  feet, 
as  selfish  and  presumptuous.  Xo,  it  has  been  a  fierce 
struggle;  but  I  have  willed  it,  they  shall  die.  Lucie 
shall  not  be  sacrificed  upon  the  altar  of  my  selfishness, 
but  go  to  the  lordly  home,  she  will  adorn  so  greatly.'* 

"  Here  she  is  now,"  said  Mrs.  St.  Clair.  "  Why, 
my  son.  Lord  Mordaunt  is  not  with  her,''  she  said, 
reproachfully  to  him. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  sick,  Lucie  ?  "  said  Mrs.  St. 
Clair,  as  Lucie  came  up. 

"^0,  dear  aunt ;  only  bored  to  death  with  the  long 
tedious  day,"  she  replied. 

'^  Which  the  rest  of  the  party  found  so  delightful, 
they  concluded  to  extend  and  come  home  by  moonlight," 
said  Mr.  Winthrop.  ^'  Daughter  and  I  left '  the  Syca- 
mores '  two  or  three  hours  ago,  and  have  had  an  invig- 
orating drive,  which  I  hope  will  do  Lucie  good ;  for  I 
ani  afraid  she  is  not  well.  She  is  always  the  last  to 
tire  of  pleasure,  but  to-day  has  been  so  distraite,  and 
quiet,  that  I  took  pity  on  her,  and  stole  her  away  in 
advance  of  the  party,  —  which,  by  the  way,  we  prom- 
ised to  meet;"  and  offering  his  arm  to  Mrs.  St.  Clair, 
they  walked  off,  saying  to  Fitz  and  Lucie,  "  Come  on." 

"  I  will  not  go,  Fitz;  but  don't  let  me  detain  you," 
said  Lucie,  seating  herself  wearily  upon  the  step. 

"Lucie,  I  am  afraid  your  father  is  correct;  I  hope 
you  are  not  sick,"  said  Fitz. 

"  Only  a  bad,  weary  headache,"  she  replied. 

"  It  must  be  a  very  bad  one,  to  render  my  usually 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  237 

happy  sister,  ^  sad  and  distraite'  for  a  whole  day;  and 
iu  such  charming  company,  too.  I  wish  I  had  the  power 
to  exorcise  it." 

"  It  will  tire  of  me,  after  awhile ;  everything  else 
does,"  she  said,  sadly. 

'^  Everything  bad,  I  am  sure  must  —  "  he  was  say- 
ing; but  Lucie  had  left  him. 

"  Lucie  is  not  herself,"  he  soliloquized  ;  then  he  re- 
called his  mother's  suggestion,  and  his  heart  beat  wildly 
Avith  delight,  only  to  be  chiddeu  as  presumptuous,  as- 
suming, arrogant ;  and  with  a  stern  determination,  he 
crushed  down  its  passionate  leapings. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop,  as  soon  as 
Mrs.  St.  Clair  and  himself  were  out  of  hearing,  '^  what 
is  the  trouble  between  those  dear  children  ?  they  both 
seem  unhappy." 

Mrs.  St.  Clair  repeated  to  him,  word  for  word,  the 
conversation  she  had  just  held  with  Fitz. 

'Must  like  the  noble  fellow,"  he  said,  "as  though 
nature  had  not  made  him  a  greater  nobleman  than  any 
peer  of  the  realm.  They  were  betrothed,  you  remem- 
ber, in  infancy,  and  it  would  be  the  greatest  disap- 
pointment of  my  life,  if  it  is  not  carried  out  in  their 
marriage  at  a  proper  time  —  " 

"  But  here  comes  our  party." 

Rena  kissed  her  mother,  and  said,  "There  is  soil 
enough  on  my  suit  to  constitute  if  real  estate,  don't 
you  think  ?     I  will  run  and  refresh  myself" 

"You  are  flushed,  my  child,"  said  Mrs.  St.  Clair, 
retaining  her  hand,  and  looking  anxiously  at  her.  "I 
hope  you  have  not  taken  too  much  exercise  ?  " 


238  .      FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

"Oh,  no,  mamma;  a  good  cool  batli  will  make,  me 
all  right/'  she  said,  drawing  away  her  hand,  and 
evading  her  mother's  inquiring  glance. 

Tea  had  been  ordered  in  their  own  parlor,  all  de- 
claring themselves  too  much  fatigued  to  make  an 
evening  toilet  for  the  table  cVhute.  Fitz  and  Arthur 
walked  upon  the  piazza ;  Lucie  came  quietly  in,  and, 
placing  the  sofa-cushion  in  the  window,  rested  her 
head  upon  it. 

"  Rena  must  be  making  an  elaborate  toilet,"  said 
Mrs.  St.  Clair;  '^  Clara,  go,  daughter,  and  tell  sister 
Rena,  supper  is  waiting  !  " 

"  Here  she  is,"  said  Clara,  as  Rena  entered,  look- 
ing sweetly  beautiful  in  her  white  Swiss,  and  pale  blue 
ribbons.  Arthur  came  into  the  room,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  she  was  down,  and,  taking  her  by  the  hand,  led 
her  up  to  Mrs.  St.  Clair,  saying,  "  Aunt  Lucie,  I  have 
Rena's  consent  to  ask  a  great  gift  at  your  hands." 

"  AA' hat  is  it,  my  son  ?  " 

"  You  have  granted  it,  my  mother,"  he  said,  kissing 
her ;  "■  I  w^as  going  to  beg  the  privilege  of  being  your 
son,  and  claiming  your  precious  daughter  for  my  wife." 

"  Only  on  condition,  that  if  I  give  my  daughter  to 
your  parents,  they  will  give  Lucie  to  — "  She  broke 
down. 

"To  Fitz;  with  all  our  heart,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop. 

"  O  papa,  papa,  how  could  you  ?  "  said  Lucie,  and 
her  burning  cheeks  were  buried  in  the  pillow,  to  con- 
ceal the  mortification  she  felt,  at  what  she  considered  a 
most   humiliating   and    indelicate    proceeding, —  her 


FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  239 

father's  offering  her  hand  unsought,  and  to  Fitz,  too, 
who  had  left  notliing  undone  to  eonvince  her  he  was 
not  her  suitor. 

A  very  quietly  spoken  ^'  Lucie/'  pronounced  in 
tones  that  always  thrilled  her,  made  her  look  up,  to 
read  in  a  pair  of  glorious  brown  eyes,  all  the  loye  her 
yearning  heart  crayed.  Clasping  her  in  a  warm  em- 
brace, he  looked  at  Mr.  Winthrop,  and,  with  intense 
emotion,  said,  ^' I  will  try  to  proye  worthy  of  the 
treasure  to  which  I  would  not  haye  dared  aspire. 
You  haye  made  me  too  happy  for  words  to  express 
my  joy."  Then,  leading  Lucie  to  Mrs.  St.  Clair,  he 
said,  "Your  daughter,  mother,^'  and  the  trembling 
girl  gained  composure  on  the  bosom  of  that  mother, 
wdio  had  learned  by  experience  so  well  how  to  comfort 
and  soothe. 

It  was  eleyen  o'clock  ;  tea  still  waited.  Mr.  Win- 
throp insisted  the  occasion  had  outgrown  the  repast, 
and  ordered  another,  worthy  of  it,  which  was  duly 
seryed. 

'^Brother  Fitz,  is  sister  Lucie  your  own  dear  sister 
now  ?  "  said  Marie,  who  was  conscious  that  some  new 
ties  had  been  formed,  which  she  did  not  exactly  com- 
prehend, and  which  the  inquisitiye  little  creature  was 
not  at  all  content  to  remain  in  ignorance  of,  when  by 
simply  inquiring  she  could  find  out. 

"Xo,  Marie;  but  you  are.  ^Sister  Lucie'  insists 
upon  it  that  'two  brothers  are  just  as  many  as  she 
wants,'  so  she  declines  being  my  sister." 


240  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

''She  does?"  said  Marie,  evidently  astonished. 
"  Well,  I  think  then,  if  I  were  her,  and  inclined  to 
be  your  sister,  I  should  just  stop  loving  you  quite  so 
much.  Why,  brother  Fitz,  she 's  drawed  a  real  splen- 
did likeness  of  you  in  her  —  '^ 

A  hand,  placed  over  the  little  tattler's  mouth,  pre- 
vented any  further  disclosures.  Fitz,  removing  the 
hand,  imprisoned  it  in  his  own  warm  clasp,  and  drew 
its  blushing  owner  to  the  seat  at  his  side,  while  Marie 
walked  off,  saying,  ''  Hem  !  you  don't  seem  to  mind  her 
inclining  to  be  your  sister  much,''  and,  concluding  it 
was  no  use  for  her  to  make  any  further  efforts  to  find 
out  the  exact  state  of  affairs,  she  cuddled  herself  up 
in  the  arm-chair,  and  soon  forgot  her  perplexities  in 
the  arms  of  morpheus. 

The  week  after  this  eventful  evening,  the  whole 
family  returned  to  Xew  York,  and  Fitz  began  imme- 
diately making  arrangements  to  go  to  Europe  Avith 
Hans. 

Mr.  Winthrop  urged  him  to  settle  North,  and  offered 
him  the  greatest  inducements  to  do  so ;  but  his  inva- 
riable reply  was,  "  Nothing  on  earth  would  induce  me 
to  leave  my  native  State  now,  in  her  humiliation  and 
poverty.  No;  I  will  live  and  die  in  South  Carolina. 
I  am  going  abroad  to  prepare  myself  to  do  valiant 
service  for  her,  if  hard  study  and  unceasing  labor  can 
prepare  me." 

"  But  you  own  no  property  in  South  Carolina,  Fitz, 
and  I  will  give  you,  with  my  daughter,  a  handsome 
home  in  New  York,"  said  Mr.  Winthrop. 


FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  241 

"Thank  you,  sir;  but  my  father's  heirs  have  the 
titles  to  his  estate.  'Glendaire'  belongs  to  us;  we 
have  never  sold  it,  and  I  have  faith  to  believe  that  the 
time  is  not  far  distant,  when  we  will  have  a  govern- 
ment honest  enough  to  restore  to  us  over  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars  worth  of  property,  inherited  from 
our  Revolutionary  sires,  and  confiscated  for  four  years 
taxes.  You  are  an  honest,  and  a  thinking  man,  and 
must  sec  how  unjust  and  criminal,  such  proceedings 
are.  Our  vast  estate  was  sold  by  two  persons,  calling 
themselves  United  States  Tax  Commissioners,  for  a 
mere  nothing,  and  Cudjoe,  our  blacksmith,  brags  '  he 
has  not  paid  the  first  dollar  yet,  of  the  trifling  sum  he 
promised  to  pay.'  One  year's  crop  would  have  paid 
our  back  taxes  over  ten  times. 

"  No,  sir,  the  emancipation  of  our  slaves  (over  five 
hundred)  I  accept,  as  the  penalty  of  our  defeat,  but  I 
protest  against  my  home  being  given  to  a  lazy,  thiev- 
ing murderer,  and  my  father's  family  thrown  houseless 
and  homeless  upon  the  world.  Such  acts  are  a  dis- 
grace to  any  government,  and  I  believe  there  will  yet 
be  found  in  the  halls  of  Congress,  some  brave  spirit 
who,  following  the  example  of  Marshal  McDonald  of 
France,  in  the  Restoration  of  1815,  will  introduce  a 
bill  to  restore  to  us  our  confiscated  property.  Mean- 
while, I  am  going  abroad,  and  spend  my  time  among 
the  manufactories  and  machine-shops  of  Europe,  for 
manufactories,  (and  intelligent  manufacturers  to  carry 
them  on,)  are  the  great  needs  of  the  South.  Mr. 
Ebaugh,  who  has  only  been  in  America  one  year,  and 
21  Q 


242  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

at  the  South  half  as  long,  says  our  State  is  one  mine 
of  untold  wealth.  He  has  already,  by  his  geological 
knowledge,  discovered  one  gold  and  two  copper  mines, 
and  made  many  other  discoveries,  which  will  make 
him  in  two  years  ^as  rich  as  he  cares  to  be,'  he  says. 
I  am  convinced,  if  we  can  only  have  ^  peace '  once 
more,  there  will  be  no  necessity  for  us  to  leave  our 
native  State  to  make  fortunes,  for  the  very  soil  under 
our  feet  holds  it  in  charge,  waiting  to  deliver  it.'' 

"  Have  peace  ?  "  said  a  lady  guest ;  "  what  do  you 
mean  by  having  ^  j)eace'  ?  I  thought  peace  had  already 
come  ?  " 

"  To  you  at  the  North,"  responded  Mrs.  St.  Clair, 
sadly,  "  it  has ;  but  not  to  us.     No — 

"'They  are  singing  peace,  but  strangers  tread 
Cer  the  land  where  our  fathers  trod, 
And  our  birthright  joys,  like  a  dream,  have  fled, 
And  Thou,  where  art  Thou,  O  God  ? 

'They  are  singing  peace;  it's  not  there,  not  there 

Where  the  oppressor's  foot  is  set ; 
KoU  back  to  the  Xorth  its  mocking  cheer, 
For  there 's  no  peace  in  the  Southland  yet.' " 

The  President  going  back  upon  the  solemn  vows  he 
took  upon  himself,  when  he  was  sworn  into  office,  ig- 
nores our  very  existence ;  except  to  ]tt  loose  the  dogs 
of  war  upon  us,  to  prey  upon  our  mutilated,  prostrate 
bodies,  and  to  construe  every  groan,  which  is  wrung 
from  our  tortured  hearts,  into  a-  howl  of  disloyalty 
which  can  be  manufactured  into  political  capital,  and 


FITZ-nUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  243 

sanctions  his  giving  anotlier  turn  of  tlie  screw,  and 
having  our  best  citizens  arrested,  under  the  pretence 
tluit  ''  they  are  Ku-klux/'  while  the  fact  that  "  Grant's 
Vultures  ''  not  only  are  permitted  to  live  in  South  Car- 
olina, but  to  grow  rich,  and  tread  with  iron  heel  upon 
the  necks  of  gentlemen,  ought  to  be  proof  enough  to 
convince  the  veriest  fools,  that  no  organization  of  the 
kind  can  exist.  The  dungeons  of  our  jails  are  filled 
with  our  best  people.  The  little  school-boy,  and  the 
old  gray-headed  patriarch,  are  huddled  together  in  one 
loathsome  cell,  arrested  on  the  testimony  of  ignorant 
and  irresponsible  negroes,  who  (one  of  our  Charleston 
trial  justices  said)  ''could  for  tw^enty-five  cents  be 
hired  to  swear  away  a  dozen  lives."  ]\Ien  are  bribed 
to  counterfeit,  and  profess  themselves  "  Ku-klux  ; ''  and 
to  carry  out  the  infernal  political  farce,  confess  to  hav- 
ing perpetrated  the  most  diabolical  crimes,  having  the 
assurance  beforehand,  that  they  will  be  well  paid,  and 
pardoned.  Oh,  no  ;  there  is  no  "  Peace  "  at  the  South. 
Here  is  a  letter,  dated  April,  1872,  vdiich  informs  me 
that  the  president  of  one  of  our  colleges  (himself  a 
graduate  of  Amherst,  and  the  son  of  a  distinguished 
Divine,  a  native  of  Xew  England,  who  at  the  time  of 
his  death,  only  a  few  months  ago,  was  the  oldest  Doctor 
of  Divinity  in  Europe  or  America)  was  arrested  while 
sitting  in  his  parlor  on  Sabbath  morning,  preparing 
the  lesson  for  his  Bible  class,  (for  this  gentleman  is  an 
elder  in  the  Presbyterian  church ;  an  accomplished 
scholar,  and  an  elegant  gentleman.)  My  correspondent 
writes :  "  Col.  L.  was  arrested  under  a  warrant  for  con- 


244  FITZ-nUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

spimcy;  an  old  negro  was  trumped  up,  or  hired  to 
appear  as  a  witness  against  him,  and  while  giving  in 
the  testimony  about  '  hearing  the  Colonel  swearing  and 
seeing  him  shooting  around/  the  farce  became  so  lu- 
dicrous, that  both  the  accused  and  the  accuser  burst 
into  a  lauo^h.''  But  what  matters  it?  it  <2:ets  into  the 
papers  Xorth,  that  the  whole  State  is  an  organized 
band  of  outlaws,  and  will  help  to  gain  votes  for  the 
President,  who,  forgetting  he  is  President  of  forty 
millions  of  people  (many  of  them  borne  down  by  tvr- 
anny  and  oppression),  can  think  of  nothing  but  how 
he  can  retain  the  office,  which  has  made  the  fortunes  of 
himself  and  his  most  remote  kinsmen. 

While  our  citizens  are  handcuffed,  and  cast  into  loath- 
some dungeons,  he  sends  the  Heir  to  the  Throne  on  a 
pleasure  excursion  over  Europe,  and  goes  himself  to 
Long  Branch  another  —  "  Xero  fiddling  while  Rome  is 
in  flames,  and  what  hope  is  there  for  us.'' 

In  the  halls  of  Congress  no  voice  is  heard  in 
behalf  of  the  white  people  of  the  South,  who  have 
no  representatives  there.  When  Lord  Byron  was  in 
Parliament,  a  petition  setting  forth  the  wretched  con- 
dition of  the  Irish  was  presented,  and  received  with 
the  utmost  indifference.  ^'  Ah  !  "  said  Byron,  "  what 
a  misfortune  it  w^as  for  the  poor  Irish,  that  they  were 
not  born  black ;  they  would  then  have  had  plenty  of 
friends  in  both  Houses." 

We,  like  these  j^oor  Irish,  unfortunately,  were  not 
born  black,  so  we  have  to  suffer  for  it ;  and  year  after 
year  our  enemies  prevail  upon  Congress  to  pass  the 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  245 

most  infamous  laws,  perpetuating  our  subjection  to 
four  million  ignorant  Africans.  Our  homes  have 
been  taken  from  us,  and  given  to  our  former  slaves, 
while  we  Avander  houseless  and  homeless  over  tlie 
earth.  Would  you  call  such  a  state  of  things  "  peace  "  ? 
Our  friends  at  the  North  say  we  must  "  have  patience." 
We  have  had,  until  our  poor  refugees  from  the  islands 
lie  buried  in  every  part  of  the  country.  They  have 
gone,  with  their  wrongs,  to  heaven,  and  patiently  are 
waiting  the  great  assize;  but  I  tell  you,  no  one  knows 
wliat  it  is  (until  it  has  been  tried)  "  to  have  patience," 
while  your  children  are  starving  and  dying  before 
your  eyes,  and  our  whole  land  is  filled  with  the  moral 
wrecks  wliich  tyranny  and  o])pressiou  are  making. 

A  few  months  ago  Carolina's  gifted  son,  Hon. 
William  Gilmore  Simras,  the  historian,  novelist,  and 
poet,  passed  away  from  earth.  "  Woodlands  harp  was 
mute,"  and  the  grand  old  man,  friend  and  peer  of 
Irving,  Prescott,  Cooper,  Longfellow,  Bryant,  and 
Bancroft,  was  laid  in  the  beautiful  cemetery  he  had 
dedicated  in  song  to  its  solemn  use.  He  liad  toiled  in 
the  fields  of  literature  for  fifty  years,  and  Europe  and 
America  united  to  honor  him.  '^  He  belonged  to  the 
nation,"  Gail  Hamilton  said,  ^^and  his  reputation  is 
national ; "  and  yet,  in  his  old  age,  he  often  wrote  all 
night  in  a  room  riddled  by  shells,  and  in  less  than 
six  months,  sent  to.  the  printer  over  three  thousand 
pages  of  manuscript.  He  "  waited  patiently,"  unmur- 
muringly,  amid  the  ashes  of  his  once  beautiful  home, 
being  compelled  to  borrow  copies  of  his  own  works, 
21* 


216  FITZ-HUGPI    ST.    CLAIR. 

if  lie  needed  them  for  reference;  yet,  iinmurmuringly 
"he  waited,"  and  fororot  his  own  Fad  wronfrs,  to  sins: 
"  Words  of  Cheer  "  and  "  Lays  of  Encouragement " 
to  his  humiliated,  suffering  people.  Pie  "  had  patience," 
until  health  was  gone,  and' despair  came  and  broke  his 
great  heart.  He  fought  bravely  and  struggled  hard 
with  fate,  but  at  last  said,  "  I  am  very  weary ;  let  me 
go  to  rest."  Sweet  be  your  sleep,  dear,  treasured 
friend.  No  monument  tells  "  the  nation  "  where  you 
lie,  for  the  people  who  love  you,  are  too  poor  to  give 
you  anything  but  tears.  Yet,  in  death,  as  in  life,  you 
are  independent,  for  by  your  own  works  you  have 
erected  a  prouder,  and.  more  enduring  monument,  than 
wealth  could  have  procured  you,  and  some  day  (may- 
be) "the  nation"  will  return  to  right  judgment,  and 
feel  how  cruel  it  was  to  crush  out  such  a  brave,  noble 
spirit  as  you  possessed.  Until  then,  we  w  ill  try  and 
"  have  patience." 

The  young  and  gifted  Timrod,  too,  Carolina's  sweet 
child  of  song,  grew  tired  of  "  waiting,"  and,  unable 
to  endure  the  sight  of  a  wife  and  babe  suffering  for 
food,  which  he,  while  ground  under  the  "  iron  heel," 
was  unable  to  procure  for  them,  folded  his  bright 
pinions,  and  in  life's  young  morning  laid  him  down  and 
died.  The  contest  was  too  fierce  for  his  sensitive 
nature ;  he  shrank,  appalled  from  it, 

"  and,  without  a  strife, 
Slipped  in  a  moment  out  of  life." 

Still,  while  these  loved  ones  are  dying  daily  around 


FITZ-UUGH    ST.    CLAIR.  247 

US,  "WO  are  waiting"  and  painfnlly  pocrin!?  into  the 
i"turo,  to  catch  one  faint  ray  of  liope,  in  the  dark  un- 
latlioniable. 

"All  is  Tajrue  in  varor,  hard  to  mpi-k, 
And  the  days  darken  round  ns  and  tlie  years." 

And  we  turn  to  the  boys  of  the  country,  North  and 
bouth,  and  say,  redeem  your  country.     Men  are  needed 
ni  die  councils  of  the  nation,   statesmen,  good  and 
true.     Fit  yourselves  for  the  places  by  hard  study,  and 
then  go  ,n  and  win  them.     When   older  men  have 
club-honses,  do  you  establish  yonr  lyeeums,  and  con- 
duct them  so  as  to  wipe  out  the  deserved  reproach 
many  men  bring  upon  their  societies,  no  matter  how 
sacred,  by  turning  them  into  drunken  orgies,  where 
they  assemble  to  make  beasts  of  themselves,  and  dis- 
grace their  families.     Take  "the   brave    Confederate 
boy     I  have  pictured  to  you  for  your  model.     He  is 
not  a  myth,  but  a  living,  working,  thinking  boy,  who 
^vill  be  heard  from  some  of  these  days,  and  his  utter- 
ances will  be  clear  and  distinct  when  thev  are  heard 
too,  for  they  will  come  from  a  brain  enlightened  and 
unclouded  not  befogged  with  tobacco-smoke,  or  drunk 
w,ta  wh,skey.     A^'iH  you  fall  into  rank  with   him-> 
My  word  for  it,  he  will  be  a  safe  leader.     Enlist  and 
save  your  country  ;  you  are  her  only  hope.     Will  you 
hear  the  appea   in  vain  ?     Boys  of  the  Xorth,  led  by 
Ar  hu,-,  as  well  as  those  of  the  South,  will  you  ralK^ 
and  let  us  have  peace,  prosperity,  justice,  and  equity 
once  more?     You  can  do  it.     Every  other  hope  h^ 
la..cd  us,  and  we  turn  to  you  in  this  last  e.Ktremitv 


248  FITZ-HUGH    ST.    CLAIR. 

and  say,  "  for  the  sake  of  your  mothers  and  sisters,  be 
men,  good  men,  wise  men,  strong  men ; "  for,  be  as- 
sured, if  the  men  were  not  making  tliemselves  so 
"  weak-minded,"  t^ie  women  would  not  feel  the  neces- 
sity of  becoming  "  strong-minded."  It  is  woman's 
nature  to  cling,  but  she  must  have  something  to  cling 
to  —  something  strong  and  erect,  that  is  not  shaken 
down  by  every  breeze  of  temptation  that  comes  along. 
Women  may  pity  weakness  in  men,  but  it  would  be 
contrary  to  every  instinct  of  her  woman's  nature  to 
admire,  respect,  or  love  a  man  for  being  weak.  Only 
think  of  a  family  looking  for  guidance,  support,  and 
protection  to  a  drunken  husband  and  father;  what 
sight  is  there  upon  earth  more  pitiable  ? 

Never  marry,  boys,  unless  you  intend  to  be  true  to 
your  vows.  You  all  have  some  imaginary  "  angel," 
wdiom  you  expect  to  call  by  the  sacred  name  of  "wife" 
some  of  these  days.  Are  you  preparing  yourself  to 
be  the  companion  of  an  "  angel  ?  "  Remember  what 
Tennyson  says : 

"As  the  husband  is  the  wife  will  be,  and  if  vou  mate  her  with 
a  clown, 
The  grossness  of  your  nature  will  have  weight  to  drag  her  down." 

If  you  are  coarse,  unrefined,  and  ignorant,  I  care 
not  how  lovely  the  woman  (jou.  make  your  wife)  is, 
when  you  marry  her, 

.  .  .  .  "  she  will  lower  to  vour  level  dav  by  day ; 
TMiat  was  fine  within  her  will  grow  coarse,  to  sympathize  with 
clay." 


FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  249 

Tliere  is  nothing  now  more  common  than  to  hear 
men  talking  disparagingly  of  ^'  women.''  All  the 
failures  in  business  they  attribute  to  "  her  extrava- 
gance;" but  if  you  will  observe  carefully,  as  I  have 
done,  you  will  find  that  it  is  only  weak,  foolish  men 
who  have  such  wives.  They  admired  flashy,  dressy 
women,  such  as  they  met  in  the  bail-room  or  in  the 
streets,  and  have  no  right  now  to  complain,  as  they  do, 
that  their  pretty  butterflies  "  can't  work."  They  had  no 
reason  to  expect  they  could ;  and  then  "  she  dresses  too 
much,"  you  say.  If  she  loves  you,  of  course  she 
dresses  as  fine  as  she  can  ;  you  fell  in  love  with  her 
finery,  and  she  knows  it,  —  she  also  knows  your  calibre, 
and  has  learned  to  know  that  the  woman  who  can  be- 
frizzle  or  bedress  her,  will  surely  rival  her  in  your 
attention,  so  she  (loving  as  she  does)  is  resolved  to 
retain  your  admiration,  (for  I  will  not  dignify  the 
feeling  by  the  name  of  'Move,")  if  she  has  to  carry 
your  whole  income  on  her  back  to  do  it.  Poor  little 
creature,  it  is  a  terrible  servitude,  but  her  husband's 
taste  demands  it,  and  she  thinks  the  stakes  are  worth 
the  winning. 

There  is  another  thing,  boys,  you  may  set  down  as 
an  axiom.  Women  never  ruin  men  whose  principles 
are  fixed,  whose  minds  are  well  balanced,  and  whose 
hearts  are  pure  and  good.  You  never  hear  this  class 
of  men  speak  of  ''the  other  sex,"  except  with  the 
reverence  which  the  memory  of  a  sainted  mother 
throws  around  them.  They  are  brav^e,  strong  men,  and 
don't  have  to  push  their  wives  before  them,  to  take 
the  blame  of  all  their  mismanagement,  inefficiency, 


250  FITZ-IIUGII    ST.    CLAIR. 

and  intemperance.  Tliere  is  no  surer  mark  of  a 
craven-spirited  sneak,  than  to  hear  him  spinning  out  a 
long  tirade  against  "  woman.'^  Shun  such  men,  boys  ; 
they  are  unsafe  companions,  and  would  murder  you 
for  your  pocket-book,  as  quick  as  they  would  rob  the 
woman  they  solemnly  swore  to  ^^  love,  honor,  and 
cherish  "  of  her  reputation. 

A  "  Southern  gentleman  ''  used  to  be  the  synonym 
of  all  that  was  gallant  and  chivalric.  Make  it  so 
again,  and  let  cravens  know  that  they  may  not  dare 
speak  sneeringly  of  your  mother's  sex  in  her  sons' 
presence.  A  debauchee  of  forty,  steeped  in  crimes  of 
the  deepest  dye,  said  his  ^'  first  step  in  the  downward 
path  was  learning  to  think  and  speak  lightly  of 
women."  You  cannot  guard  this  point  too  carefully. 
The  most  touching  and  sacred  form  of  love,  the  holi- 
est, the  purest,  the  deepest,  of  which  human  nature  is 
capable,  is  found  in  woman's  heart.  Then,  guard  her 
reputation  as  a  holy  thing,  and  see  to  it,  boys,  young 
men,  that  no  act  or  word  of  yours,  in  an  unguarded 
moment,  brands  with  a  curse  deeper  than  Cain's  an 
innocent,  confiding  being,  whose  infant  brow  was  be- 
dewed with  tears,  as  gentle  as  fell  from  your  mother's 
eyes,  wdiose  childish  steps  were  guarded  with  as  tender 
a  solicitude,  and  who,  before  she  learned  to  love  you, 
was  the  pride  and  darling  of  a  happy  home-circle  ; 
now,  by  your  crimes,  disgraced,  desolated,  ruined. 

"  Sowing  wild  oats,"  the  world  politely  calls  your 
hellish  crime ;  but  what  a  terrible  harvest  of  infamy, 
despair,  and  woe  is  the  result  of  the  sowing.  To  the 
poor   victim   respect,  affection,  home,  heaven,  all   is 


FITZ-HUGII    ST.    CLAIR.  251 

forfeited.  Society  has  no  word  of  pity  or  forgiveness 
for  an  erring  woman,  no  matter  how  young,  or  how 
sinned  against.  An  outcast  and  a  fugitive,  she  is 
driven,  with  her  weary,  longing,  despairing  heart,  be- 
yond its  pale,  where,  forsaken  and  hopeless,  in  want 
and  sin,  she  lives,  and  suffers,  until  death  mercifully 
comes  to  close  the  dreadful  drama.  Don't  be  deceived, 
boys,  by  the  glamour  with  which  the  world  refines 
away  sin,  for  the  Bible  (in  language  not  to  be  mis- 
understood) warns  you  that  "  For  all  these  things,  God 
will  bring  you  into  judgment,"  and,  as  a  murderer  of 
both  soul  and  body,  you  will  be  condemned,  and  eter- 
nally punished.  "Keep  your  heart  (therefore)  dili- 
gently, for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life.'' 

]  t  is  not  recorded  that  when  the  blessed  Saviour  was 
upon  earth,  there  was  numbered  among  His  enemies, 
or  persecutors,  one  woman ;  but,  on  the  contrarv, 
*^  woman  was  found  last  at  the  cross,  and  earliest  at 
the  sepulchre."  When  upon  His  trial,  even  the  Gov- 
ernor's wife  (a  strangerto  Him)  pleaded  for  His  release; 
and  see  how  lovingly  He  always  received  the  minis- 
trations of  woman,  and  how  tenderly  He  soothed  their 
sorrows  and  sympathized  in  their  afflictions  —  weeping 
with  them  over  their  dead,  and  when  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  after  the  cruel  nails  had  pierced  His  hands  and 
feet,  He  forgot  His  own  grief  and  torture  to  provide  a 
protector  for  His  mother.  See,  too,  the  selection  He 
made  —  "the  beloved  disciple"  —  the  gentle,  loving 
John.  Ah  !  He  who  knew  all  things,  knew  the  neces- 
sity of  love  to  w^oman's  nature.  In  all  the  teachings 
of  the  Saviour  we  find  no  reproach  cast  upon  woman ; 


252  FITZ-IIUGH    ST.    CLATR. 

on  the  contrary,  He  delighted  to  honor  her.  It  was 
to  a  woman  Christ  first  confided  the  secret  of  His 
spiritual  mission,  and  in  the  hour  of  His  triumph  He 
conferred  upon  woman  the  honor  of  proclaiming  a 
*^  Risen  Saviour  ''  even  to  Apostles ;  and  she  has  been 
true  to  her  commission  ever  since.  The  ministers  of 
Christ  still  find  in  her  their  truest  friend,  and  from 
her  lips  hear  words  of  comfort  and  consolation,  as 
cheering  as  the  message  she  conveyed  when  the  Risen 
Saviour  made  her  "an  Apostle  unto  Apostles." 

With  this  plea  for  woman,  I  close  my  little  book.  I 
"have  no  ambition  to  see  her  a  legislator,  but  I  would 
have  men  legislate  for  her,  and  society  do  her  justice. 
Brand  the  man  whose  plaything  is  woman's  reputation, 
and  whose  innocent  pastime  is  destroying  the  peace 
and  happiness  of  families,  as  a  fiend,  or  a  madman, 
and  visit  upon  him  the  utmost  vengeance  of  the  law, 
instead  of  refining  away  his  sins  and  hunting  his  vic- 
tim to  the  grave  and  into  perdition,  for  not  so  taught 
the  blessed  Saviour.  He  said,  "Thy  sins  are  forgiven  ; 
go  and  sin  no  more." 

We  are  not  pleading  for  "  women's  rights,"  but  for 
the  redress  of  women's  wrongs,  and  if  I  can  gain  for 
her  one  champion  among  the  young  men,  who  will  soon 
fill  our  pulpits  and  be  the  law-makers  of  our  land,  ray 
end  will  be  accomplished.  By  the  punishment  of  sin, 
society  must  be  purged ;  but  let  the  penalty  fall  alike 
on  the  tempter  and  the  tempted,  and  do  not  offer  a 
premium  to  the  one,  and  inflict  the  extremest  sentence 
of  the  law  upon  the  other,  for  mercy  and  justice  both 
cry  out  against  it. 


4 


t 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


Wilmer 
207 


